Prayer
by Ninja Goldfish
Summary: Hermione is captured by Death Eaters and handed over to Snape to be broken. Little does the Dark Lord know, it's the worst thing he could have done. Rating for a reason. SS/HG
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

They were surrounded. Twelve hooded figures in skeletal masks stood around them, wands drawn. Hermione wasn't sure who fired first, but in the blink of an eye the five of them were battling for their lives. Harry and Ginny had lined up back to back and were moving in a circular motion as they fired spell after spell at the Death Eaters closing in. She saw Neville duck and roll quickly to avoid the jet of green aimed at his chest. Ron's face showed a single-minded fury as he focused on a huge man in front of him. Jumping to the side, she managed to prevent a nasty looking purple flash from making contact with her head. She sent a stunner in the direction the curse had come from and felt a moment of satisfaction when she heard the thud of a body hitting the ground – her spell had hit its mark.

From her left a jet red light sped toward her. Time seemed to slow as she saw it coming and knew that she would not be able to dodge it. The spell hit her like a freight train, knocking the wind out of her as intense pain such as she had never experienced gripped her body. She hit the ground as a scream wrenched itself from her throat. As suddenly as it had come, the pain cut off. The haze seemed to clear slowly, though she was sure it wasn't more than a second or two. She sprang to her feet, wincing at the lingering ache in her bones. Her friends were shooting her concerned looks and Ron looked murderous but they were all caught up in their own battles. The caster of the cruciatus lay on the ground behind her, bleeding out from a deep wound in his chest.

Deciding to puzzle it out later, she took a step forward toward her party before dropping to the ground unconscious as a stunner hit her square in the back.

oOo

Severus saw her fall and cursed under his breath. Making a split decision, he jogged to her prone form and planted his feet on either side of her body. His gut clenched instinctively as the remaining four fighters turned their focus collectively onto him. Meeting Potter's gaze through his mask, he pushed his way into the boy's mind – _thank Merlin he never learned Occlumency_ – and firmly planted the words, "Go, now, boy. I've got her. This is not a fight you can win." He applauded the boy for his brains in covering them as he threw a stunner that Severus easily swatted aside.

"Back off," Potter instructed the rest of his minions. Severus was surprised when there was only a slight hesitation from the group before following orders and turning on their heels with a _pop_.

There was an intense silence for a moment, broken only by the heaving of chests as adrenaline coursed through the veins of ten Death Eaters. Then all hell broke loose. Wands were pointed at the body beneath him and everyone was speaking so that no one could be understood.

"Silence," he hissed. His command was immediately obeyed. "The Dark Lord will want the girl alive. I intend to present her to him. Should he choose otherwise, then he can have the privilege of killing the Mudblood himself." He stepped to the side of her and leveled his wand at her form. " _Ennervate_." She was on her feet in an instant, wand in hand. Lazily, he plucked it from her fingers and pocketed it. Using his other hand to grab her arm, he twisted it behind her and pulled her back close against his body, intending to use himself as a shield against overeager Death Eaters if need be. He felt her body shift and steeled himself for the kick that he knew was coming. She did not disappoint, her boot connecting firmly with his ankle. He increased his grip on her arm and shook her hard. "Behave, Mudblood," he growled, "or I may just change my mind about keeping you alive." She stiffened but stilled and he nodded to his fellows over her head. Almost as one, the group turned and disappeared.

oOo

Terror gripped Hermione as they reappeared in a large, dimly lit ballroom. Snape's presence did little to temper her fear, for she could make out a form rising from what appeared to be a throne at the opposite end of the room. She knew that he would do his best to protect her – she had no doubt of his loyalty to the Order – but there was only so much he could do without showing his hand. She tipped her chin upward in defiance as she was marched forward toward the thing that had once been a man.

A smile broke over his lips as his gaze came to rest on her. "Well, what do we have here?" His voice sent a shiver of fear down her spine.

"My Lord," Severus intoned, forcing the girl to her knees, "I have brought the Mudblood Granger to you to do with what you will."

Voldemort stepped down from his elevated dais and circled the two of them. "Yessss," he nearly hissed. "You have done well, Severus." Hermione kept her eyes on the floor but Severus could feel her body trembling at his feet. "Dolohov," snapped Voldemort suddenly.

The man in question stepped forward and fell to his knees. "My Lord."

"I understand that you have a particular… attachment to the Mudblood."

He growled low in his throat. "Yes, my Lord."

"Perhaps I should give her to you. Would you like that?"

"Yes, my Lord," Dolohov agreed huskily.

"Severus," Voldemort barked, "you also have an attachment to the girl." Severus said nothing but inclined his head to his master. "To which of you should I give her?"

Dolohov spoke first. "My Lord, I will make the Mudblood bleed. I will make her _burn_. I will make her beg for death before, finally, I give it to her."

Severus felt the girl twitch but she made no sound or gave any other indication of fear at the man's words. _Good girl_.

"Very good," Voldemort purred. "Severus?"

"I know the girl well, my Lord. If I may suggest another plan?" He looked to his master for approval before continuing. "I know her weaknesses. I know how to break the girl. Give her to me. I can destroy her, body and mind, in the most efficient ways possible. Return her to Potter weak and broken."

Voldemort resumed his circling. "Severus, you have been a good and faithful servant for many years. Your plan has merit. Shall we ask the Mudblood what she wishes?" She remained silent, then jumped as he roared, "Speak!"

She raised her head to gaze levelly at the mad man before her. "I wish to see you and all your followers burn in hell."

His face contorted but a laugh, high and cold, filled the hall. "Take her, Severus. Break her down. Destroy that defiant little spirit and give her back to Potter a husk."

He bowed his head obediently. "My Lord."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Voldemort accompanied them when they left. The three of them appeared in a dark living room, its decorations sparse but in good condition. Severus, still holding her by her arm behind her back, pushed her forward toward a staircase in the corner. Upstairs, he gestured toward a door-less room for the Dark Lord to precede them. He swept into the room, glancing around the room with an expression of vague distaste.

"This will do," he said dismissively and set about casting charms at the left-hand corner beside the doorframe.

Severus steered his captive into the room and she saw that it was a sparsely furnished bedroom. A bed decorated with nothing but an off-white sheet was the only piece of furniture in the room. In the corner, the darkest wizard in history was pulling something from inside his robes. Hermione noted with both disgust and horror that it was an _eye_. A fucking eyeball. Voldemort levitated the eye onto the wall and stuck it there, casting a few more spells at it. A wave of his hand and a small image appeared before him of the room. She could see them all standing there, including herself staring at the horrible thing stuck to the wall.

"I look forward to the show," was all he said as he turned on his heel once again and disappeared from the room.

Severus shoved her forward toward the bed. "I wouldn't try to escape if I were you, Mudblood." Pulling his wand from his pocket, he waved it lazily toward the door and she could see the flash of light before it faded, signaling the wards that had sprung into life around it. Removing the Death Eater mask finally from his face, he turned fully toward her, his back to the eye, and mouthed the words "Stay calm." He fixed a leer on his face and strode from the room.

oOo

The first time he had joined her in the library of Grimmauld Place she had been wary and on edge. Curled up in an armchair by the fire, book in hand, she had felt more than heard him enter. She had almost thought him to be one of the boys or Ginny but no, he _felt_ different. She looked up to see him just as he settled himself into an armchair across the room from her and proceeded to ignore her totally in favor of his own book. She had remained another hour but had found herself quite unable to focus on the words in front of her. She did not doubt his loyalty but she was well aware that he was dangerous and could do severe damage – not only physically. Eventually, she rose silently from her chair and retreated to her bedroom.

The next night she had arrived at the library with book in hand to find him in her usual seat. Biting her lip, she hesitated in the doorway before crossing the room and perching on the chair directly across from him. She _liked_ being close to the fireplace. It was warm. It was the reason she came to read in the library rather than remaining in her room. He did not so much as glance at her and slowly she relaxed until she was absorbed in the pages of her book.

After a week, she had managed to muster the nerve to announce as she arrived, "Professor, you're in my spot."

"I was not aware that there were assigned seats," he had remarked smoothly without looking up from his reading.

She huffed quietly and sat across from him once again. No more words were exchanged that evening. However, the next night she arrived to find that he had chosen a different armchair rather than her preferred position. As she settled into it, she murmured, "Thank you."

He had, of course, ignored her.

"Professor?" she had asked one evening as he had stood from his chair to leave. He rolled his neck a few times, stretching out the muscles, before turning to look at her mildly. "Why are you here?"

A single brow quirked. "I am reading, Miss Granger. I had thought that much was obvious."

She had the grace to blush. "Yes, sir. I just mean… Why here?"

"Does my presence disturb you, Miss Granger?"

"No, sir," she answered truthfully. She had adjusted to his presence. Knowing what kind of a man he was, she had felt safer knowing that he was within the walls of the house. That was saying nothing of him occupying the same room. The boys were great and all quite capable, but Snape… Well, Snape was a double-agent whom she had no doubt was more than capable of killing a man with a wave of his hand if he so desired.

"Well, then. Good night." Without another word he had strolled casually from the library.

She had arrived the following evening to find the library empty and tried to ignore the sinking feeling she had at his absence. Sighing, she had crossed to her chair and become engrossed in her book. After a few hours without him showing up, she retreated to her room where she tried not to feel hurt. When Harry had come down from his room the next morning and announced over toast that there had been a Death Eater attack last night, she felt instantly guilty at her self-absorption. She had given his absence no more thought than he was avoiding her after her questioning.

It was with trepidation that she arrived at the library that evening… to see him in his usual chair, hair curtained around his face as he leaned forward in his seat, intent upon his book. She let out a breath she hadn't known she had been holding and silently took her own seat. He glanced up at her when she sat but said nothing, returning quickly to his reading. An hour later he had absentmindedly pushed at his sleeves, shoving them up his arms and she gasped as she caught sight of two long wounds, almost like burn marks, red and angry on his arms.

"Professor," she had cried out, "what happened to your arms?"

His eyes snapped up to hers before dropping to his wounds with a glower. "I do not think that is any of your business, Miss Granger," he had said shortly.

But she had already closed her book, setting it aside. "Have you been to see Poppy?" she asked urgently.

Mouth downturned, he replied "I have not."

"Let me. I'm a fair hand at healing," she explained. She waited for his consent, which came in the way of a stiff nod, before moving across the space between them and grasping his left arm gently. She began to push at his sleeve, asking, "How far up does this go?"

He hesitated before he admitted lowly, "They are connected."

She had pursed her lips before standing and gesturing at his person. "Right then, off with the shirt." He blinked at her dumbly and she tapped her hand against her thigh impatiently. "I can't do a damn thing for you if I can't see what the damage is."

He had been motionless for a moment before turning his fingers to the row of buttons at his collar and undoing them slowly. As he worked on that, Hermione stared at the wall behind him, her mind working furiously, listing the various possibilities of the cause of damage and the spells that could be used in mending them. He paused when he reached the last button. His shirt fell open and she gritted her teeth at the sight in front of her. The two lines did indeed run up from his arms and meet in the middle of his chest, where it looked like an explosion had hit him square on. Small tendrils snaked their way in all directions from the target like winding red rivers.

"I don't suppose you have any idea what spell this was?" she asked as she leaned in closer to inspect the marks. Her hands had gone to push the shirt back from his shoulders and he had obliged in shrugging out of it completely.

"Irradiant curse," he answered lowly.

She nodded almost absently. She had heard of it. Nasty piece of magic designed to eat up the victim as it slowly spread through the body. It was supposed to be very painful and if she wasn't mistaken it was the only reason he hadn't ripped her head off by now. Thankfully, she knew the counter curse, which she spoke clearly while she touched the tip of her wand to the mark on his chest. A low growl left his throat and his hands balled into fists as the angry red lines over his skin retreated, seemingly sucked into the tip of her wand.

When it was finished, she pulled back her wand. "Any more?"

Without looking at her, he had admitted to a probably broken rib and extensive internal bruising. She had healed both without batting an eye and returned to her armchair while he shrugged his shirt back on and got to work on the buttons. She had been careful not to let her eyes linger over the Dark Mark standing out starkly against his pale skin.

When he was once again fully dressed, she had admonished him quietly, "You should have been to see Poppy rather than coming here. That curse could have killed you."

"Clearly, coming here worked out fine."

She had snorted. "I happen to be a swot who reads every book she can lay her hands on, including medical texts. If I weren't…" She paused. "Were you planning to see Poppy?"

He hadn't replied and she knew the answer was probably no. She doubted that the man did not know the counter curse and could have healed himself but she doubted that he would have done so right away. It occurred to her that perhaps he felt that he somehow deserved to suffer through the pain he received. She filed that bit away for later analysis.

"Was this a Death Eater?" she asked.

His lips tightened. "Auror."

She frowned. "An _auror_ used the irradiant curse on you?"

"Death Eater," he answered simply, shrugging.

Eventually they had returned to their respective books but Hermione had a hard time focusing on the words in front of her. When she crawled into bed that night she had found that sleep was difficult to come by.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

A tentative friendship had formed in that library. Over the weeks and months, Hermione found that he seemed to have come to prefer her healing over that of Pomfrey, and that he was in need of it more often than she would have suspected. However, most nights they simply sat in each other's company in silence and enjoyed their individual readings.

"Professor, why do you come here?" she had asked again, several months after the first such question. She was hopeful that perhaps she may get an answer this time.

He gazed at her mildly across the short distance between them. "I like the fire," he had answered her simply.

A small smile quirked her lips. "Me too."

Heading back into his book, he muttered, "I also seem to have found a more satisfactory solution than that insufferable woman poking and prodding and tutting over me."

Hermione suppressed a grin. Not once had she 'tutted' at the man as she looked over his injuries. "Nothing today?" she asked politely.

He raised an eyebrow without looking up at her. "You're just trying to get me out of my clothes again."

She recoiled, thinking that he was reprimanding her. "Now, really," she fumed. "I-"

"Miss Granger," he had cut her off, meeting her gaze with black eyes glittering, "I was _joking_."

"Oh," she said in a small voice. She hadn't known that Severus Snape knew _how_ to joke. Recovering herself, she said briskly, "Well then I'll assume that that's a no."

oOo

"Miss Granger," came his voice quietly to her right. Her head whipped around but she saw nothing. "Turn your back to the eye." She cast a glance to the insidious eye perched in the left hand corner of the room. It was watching, always. She did as she was told, sliding to the edge of the bed to sit with her back to the horrible thing. "Keep your voice down and do not let it see your mouth moving," he instructed.

"How can I be sure it's you?" she asked, quietly as she had been warned.

He made an impatient noise. "Miss Granger, how many people do you think I keep in my house?"

She tried not to let the surprise show on her face. She hadn't realized that this was his home. "Still."

He glared at her before remembering that she couldn't see him – invisibility cloak. Not nearly so high quality as Potter's but useful still. It was irritating to have to repeat secrets back to her but he could not help but be proud that even in this situation she had kept her wits about her. "You healed an irradiant curse from my person earlier this year."

Knowing her tendency to talk with her hands, she slid them under her thighs. "Do the boys know where I am?"

"They know that you are safe."

"Am I? Safe?"

He paused, knowing the validity of her question. "I will not harm you in any way in which I am not directly ordered," he replied. "Through _that_ ," he nodded toward the eye and knew that though she could not see him, she knew what he referred to, "the Dark Lord has direct access to watch your every move, and by extension, mine."

She caught herself at the last moment to keep from nodding.

Severus thanked his lucky stars that he had been there at the scuffle that day. He shuddered at the thought of what would have become of her had she been sent with Antonin bloody Dolohov. There, he would have had no power to protect her. She would likely have been dead within days. This way he could ensure that no undue cruelty befell her.

"I understand the delicate position that you are in," she whispered. "You must keep your standing."

"I will try to warn you when I can."

"Thank you."

He hesitated, his stomach roiling. He steeled himself and pushed forward. "It is why I am here now. The Dark Lord wishes me to break you. By any means necessary. He has left the specifics mostly up to me but he has given me a certain… unpleasant… order."

She didn't take long to catch on. "You're supposed to rape me," she said flatly.

"Yes."

She sighed. "Lovely." Silence stretched between them. "I give my consent. I will fight and cry as I should but know that you have my consent."

Severus was infinitely grateful for the protection of the cloak as he could not suppress the emotion that crossed his face. Relief, surprise, and gratitude passed across his face in equal measure. He had, of course, raped before in service of Voldemort but never someone that he knew. Never anyone who knew him. Never anyone who was expected to survive the night. He knew that it would be difficult on her – it was supposed to be. He was also knew that it would be difficult on him. He hadn't wanted to admit it but those nights in the library had drawn him to her. He desperately did not want to break the feeble threads of trust that had formed between them.

"I cannot cast the contraception charm. He wants you to become pregnant. He thinks that this would break you most, to carry your Death Eater rapist's baby. I happen to think that he is correct. I… need your help to think of a way around," he admitted.

Her face was downcast, her teeth working her lower lip furiously. "Is there a potion you could take instead?"

He started to shake his head then remembered he was invisible. "Nothing that would not be… permanent."

Her eyes were curious as she asked, "Do you want children?"

He paused before answering. Given what he was going to have to do to her, she deserved his honesty. "I do not wish to eliminate the possibility."

"I understand." She was silent another moment before announcing quietly, "Plan B." His eyebrows furrowed in confusion before she continued. "It's a muggle drug. A single pill taken after…" she swallowed, "after sex. It's supposed to prevent pregnancy. Not ideal but it should work."

That was… brilliant. He could slip it to her and the Dark Lord would never know. "I will acquire it and hide it in your next meal."

Her heart dropped. "My next one?"

"Yes." He let out a silent sigh. "I will do my best not to hurt you. Miss Granger… are you a virgin?"

She blushed and again had to fight the urge to nod. "I am."

"Shit," he muttered. "I… apologize that it has to be this way."

"This is a war. You have a part to play and so do I. I'll be okay. I trust you. I don't want this to distract you or upset you. I have given you my consent and I meant it. Don't let this eat at you. I won't let it eat at me. But… I have a request."

"I will do what I can to ease your burden. What do you wish?"

She bit her lip, casting her eyes to the floor. "I don't want _rape_ to be my first time. Even if it isn't real."

Merlin, was she asking him to bed her first? He swallowed thickly. "I could… probably get you out of this room for a short time if that is what you desire."

"It is," she confirmed firmly. "I trust you. I want it done right the first time. Is that… Sorry, this is probably too much to ask from you."

"Miss Granger – Hermione," he corrected himself. It was the first time her given name had fallen from his lips. "It is not too much to ask. I owe you this for, well, for later." He paused, embarrassed to bring it up but needing to clarify. "You realize that I cannot bring anyone else into the house. You… have only me."

"I know."

She genuinely did not seem terribly bothered by that and Severus furrowed his brow. "Very well then. I will return shortly."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"Mudblood, you reek," he drawled from the doorway. He stepped into the room and wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Up."

She widened her eyes and shrank back from him. Scowling, he grabbed her by the arm and hauled her to her feet. She shrieked and took a wild swing at him, which he dodged easily. Using his other hand, he grabbed a fistful of hair and pulled her head back until her throat was exposed and she was whimpering in pain.

"Be a good girl and I promise I'll come visit you in the shower," he said silkily.

"Fuck you," she spat.

"Oh, you will, Mudblood," he crooned, his breath hot against her neck.

Releasing her hair with a shove, he steered her toward the door. She felt the wards tingle as she passed through them. She had no doubt that she would feel more than a tingle if she attempted to pass through them by herself. As soon as he was also outside the wards, his grip on her arm disappeared and the leer dropped from his face, leaving it expressionless instead.

"You are sure about this?" he murmured. "I could just take you to actually shower if you'd prefer."

She turned to face him. "I'm sure."

He nodded solemnly. "Follow me."

They crossed the hall into a room a few doors down. She looked around, finding it to be another bedroom. It was tidy, the only sign of its being lived in the unmade bed sheets and the pair of trousers hung over the back of a chair in the corner. Severus was looking at her and she met his gaze. "Your room?"

He nodded again.

She crossed the room to him. Her hands went to touch his chest. "Are you sure that you're okay with this?" she asked with concern in her voice.

"I'm okay, Hermione."

She shivered slightly hearing her name on his tongue and moved closer. He gazed down at her with dark eyes curiously unguarded. Reaching up onto her toes, she pressed her lips to his softly. "I need you to pretend that you want this. Please. You owe me this," she whispered against his lips.

He did not know whether it would make her feel better or worse to know that he didn't really need to pretend, so he said nothing. Instead his hands went to her hips and pulled her flush against his body. His lips crushed against her own and he kissed her with fervor. One of her hands moved to his face, settling against his cheek. Stepping slowly backward, he walked them to the edge of the bed. He broke the kiss and sat, pulling her between his knees. Her hands twined through his hair as she leaned down enough to meet his lips again. His hands slid beneath her shirt, running softly over the bare skin of her back. She made a small noise of pleasure into his mouth and he felt his body react. She moved to place her knees on either side of him on the mattress, landing squarely in his lap. Her mouth moved down to the corner of his lips, lingering for a moment before tracing the line of his jaw. Her tongue flashed out, tasting his skin and he was almost surprised to hear a strangled groan emerge from his throat. Wrapping an arm securely around her waist, he pulled them backward, his back coming to rest against the headboard.

She resumed kissing his jaw, moving slowly down his neck. Distracted as he was by the feeling of her tongue tracing the veins in his throat, it took him a moment to notice her fingers undoing the buttons of his shirt. He huffed a low chuckle and reached around her to grab hold of her bottom to pull her closer. She seemed finally to become aware of the erection he was sporting and pulled back from his neck to grind herself against him. What sounded oddly like a growl came from somewhere within his chest and she bit her lip, smiling at him. That innocent smile very nearly was his undoing right there. Before he could gather his remaining wits, she had his shirt undone and was pushing it urgently from his shoulders. He obligingly sat forward, allowing her to work it off his frame. He barely noticed as it fluttered to his bedroom floor, as her hands had gone to the hem of her own shirt. His mouth ran dry as she peeled her shirt over her head, blushing slightly. As much as he wanted to drink in the sight of her, he could feel her discomfort so he instead leaned forward and caught the back of her head in his hand. His fingers twisted in her hair and he pulled her mouth back to his own. He felt her shiver deliciously as his other hand explored her skin, staying carefully below the bra line. Suddenly he stiffened as his fingers encountered a line of puckered scar tissue and he pulled back, eyes going sharply downward.

His mouth pulled into a frown as he took in the sight of the long, angry-looking scar that extended across her torso. "Hermione…"

"Sorry," she mumbled. "I should have warned you." She started to wrap her arms around herself in embarrassment but he stopped her.

"No," he disagreed. "I just didn't realize… Was this Dolohov's doing?" He had heard the man crowing about that night in the Ministry and how Potter's little Mudblood friend had been taken away in a passed out, bloody heap, he just had never thought of what had happened after that. Obviously she had survived and he had never given it more consideration.

She nodded slowly. He lifted her gently and laid her down beside him. Watching her closely in case she objected, he came down onto his arms above her and laid a kiss to the damaged flesh. Her breath hissed out nervously and she shivered. Glancing up to her eyes, which were watching with curiosity more than anything else, he continued, kissing his way up her scar and over her skin until he came to the edge of the fabric covering her breasts. She wanted this done right and dammit he was going to give it to her. Gently his pressed a kiss to the fabric of her bra while the tip of his index finger slid under the garment, running only along the underside of her breast. She moaned softly and he pulled himself up to kiss her lips again. He did not linger long, instead moving down her neck and to her shoulder, where he slid the strap of her bra down her arm and licked a long line over her skin.

"Severus," she whimpered. The sound of his name in _that_ voice went straight to his crotch in a jolt.

"Yes? What do you want, Hermione?" he asked her, his voice husky.

Her eyes were wide but hooded at the same time. "I don't… I don't know. I want everything."

He trailed soft kisses across her skin as he lowered his mouth toward the top edge of her bra, his tongue peeking out occasionally to taste her. Using his tongue, he traced the line just inside her bra, enjoying the not so soft moans the action elicited. "Take it off?" he requested. She hesitated briefly but reached behind herself to undo the clasp. He pulled the garment from her and took a moment to stare down at her. She moved instinctively to cover herself and he kissed her lips urgently before pulling back and saying in a low voice, "You are beautiful." He proceeded to show her he meant it, tracing one finger in a circle around her nipple. When she was gasping and squirming, he lowered his head and sucked one into his mouth.

"Severus," she gasped. Her hands instinctively went to his hair, needing to touch him, hold him, while he evoked feelings she had never felt before.

When he felt that her breasts had been paid their properly due attention, he moved his kisses south, his fingers trailing slowly after his mouth. When he got to the clasp of her Muggle jeans, he looked into her eyes for permission. She bit her lip and nodded and he quickly divested her of them. Mostly naked before him, she felt her nerves kick in, especially with his eyes devouring her hungrily. Finally, he reached forward, sliding his hands over her knees and slowly up her thighs. Her legs quivered from a mixture of nerves and anticipation. He made no attempt to touch her most tender areas, instead continuing up her body to her face, cupping it gently in his hands, and pressing a chaste kiss to her lips.

"You're still sure?" he murmured against her lips.

She nodded. "Yes. I… I want you, Severus."

He closed his eyes as a groan came from deep in his throat. Lying down beside her, he pulled her firmly against himself, twining his fingers through her hair and kissing her passionately. The feeling of her bare chest against his was glorious and he slid his other hand down her back to pull her closer. One of her legs made its way over his and he moaned into her mouth. Her hands went to the clasp of his trousers, fumbling but managing to undo the mechanism. He helped her to pull them down and kicked them off the end of the bed. Using her leg wrapped around his, she pulled their pelvises together, gasping as she felt his cock rubbing against her through their underwear. Experimentally he lightly thrust his hips against her and felt her purr of pleasure vibrating through her chest into him. He hooked one finger under the waistband of her underwear and met her hazy eyes. She leaned forward to kiss him, which he took for permission and slid them down her hips. She took over and pulled them over her ankles. She tossed them behind her off the bed. He ran a hand from her breasts down her side, over her hips, and down her thigh. She shivered, her own hands exploring the skin of his chest, his arms, his back. It wasn't as though she had never touched him before – she had touched his bare skin many times in healing him – but this was different, oh so deliciously different.

Going slowly to give her every opportunity to say no or push him away, he trailed his hand down between their bodies to her core. He groaned deeply, his cock twitching, as he discovered just how wet she was. Her back arched with a moan when he pushed one finger into her. He moved the digit slowly up and down inside her tightness, enjoy the feeling of her writhing in his arms as he did so. "More," she gasped. "Severus, I need more." He slipped his finger out of her and brought it slowly to his mouth, making sure she was watching when he slid it into his mouth. She whimpered at the sight of him sucking her juices from his fingers and grasped at his hip almost desperately. He obliged her, sliding down his own underwear and dropping them over the side onto the floor. He pulled her leg back up over his hip, lining himself up with her core.

He met her eyes, asking permission, making certain that she was still sure. "Please," she moaned.

He slid the tip of himself slowly inside her, moaning at how damn _good_ she felt. When he hit the barrier, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her face into his neck and he jerked violently upward. As he had known she would, she cried out in pain. He stayed very still for a moment, buried inside her heat as she gasped into his neck. She blinked rapidly – he could feel her lashes against his skin.

"Are you okay?" he asked gently after a moment.

She wriggled her hips experimentally and he clenched his teeth against the moan that tried to rise up. "I think so."

He pulled out slowly before sliding back into her again, a long groan on his lips. One of his hands rose up to her breast, rolling her nipple between his fingers rather more aggressively than he had done before. Judging by the noises coming from Hermione's mouth, she rather enjoyed the combination of sensations on opposite ends of her body. As much as Severus wanted to just let loose and fuck the living hell out of the girl, this was not about him. He had to do this right for her. Without altering the slow thrusting of his hips, his other hand went down between their bodies and rubbed at the little nub in time with his movements on her breast. Her gasps and moans grew louder and he found his name falling from her lips intermingled with the sounds of pleasure. He could feel her body starting to tighten and felt the anticipation grow in him. He changed nothing in his ministrations and soon she was falling over the edge, calling his name as she squeezed his cock, milking him from the inside. As her orgasm seemed to be ending, he increased the pace and intensity of his thrusts, following the pattern he knew that he needed for his own release. Butterfly light, she kissed his neck and his shoulders as his breathing became harsher. He was already close when her tongue flicked out to trace the hollow of his throat, pushing him over the edge of release. With a strangled groan, he buried himself deep inside her and released his seed.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Outside her cell, a heated conversation was being had. Severus had, of course, assured her that all outside noise was sealed off from the room that was her prison.

"I am not going to hit you," he hissed.

She glared at him. "You are a worthless waste of space who tortures children for fun."

He glared back. "You can't goad me into it, Hermione."

"Severus Snape, if you don't hit me in the face right this instant you are putting your life at risk as well as mine. If you think for a moment that he won't kill us both if you don't have a damn good story, you're deluded. I don't think you're delusional, Severus."

There was a sharp _crack_ as his fist connected with the side of her face and she staggered sideways, tears springing to her eyes. His stomach rolled violently. Reaching out for her, he pulled her against his chest. _I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry_ , he chanted in his head.

"Are you okay?" he asked gently.

She poked gingerly at the place where he'd made contact. "Do you think it will bruise?"

He glowered at it. "It had fucking better. If I did that for no damn reason…"

"We need to do this." She took a deep breath and glanced through the doorway at the bed waiting there. "I think I'm ready."

Reaching into a pocket, he pulled out a vial of deep blue liquid, pulled the cork, and downed a good swallow, making a face at the taste. Still pulled against his chest, Hermione could feel the potion start to work on him.

 _"You think I could get… prepared… by the thought of rape?" he asked incredulously as she questioned him about the vial of potion he pulled from a dresser drawer._

 _"It isn't really rape," she pointed out._

 _He replied solemnly, "If we both play our part, it will still feel like it, consent or not. The potion assures that I can perform as the Dark Lord requires."_

He took a deep breath… and pushed her through the wards into the room. She hit the floor screaming. She'd been right earlier when she mused about the tingling of the wards. Passing through them unaccompanied was excruciating. Every nerve ending was on fire. She registered Severus entering the room and scuttled quickly away from him on her bum. Tears stung her cheeks and the spot where he had hit her had begun to throb. His face was twisted cruelly and a hint of real fear twisted in her belly.

 _She was tucked securely against his body. His fingers trailed up and down her arm gently while he explained to her what would happen. "It is best," he said, "to write the script beforehand. A stage play, if you will."_

She knew her part, and she knew his, but she had not expected her natural reaction to his very convincing acting to be so difficult to quash. She whimpered fearfully, eyes wide, as he stepped over her body. Grabbing her arm, he hauled her off the floor. With his free hand, he traced the lines of her face. "Such a pretty face," he said softly. "It's too bad I had to mark it. If you had simply _behaved_ , as I asked you to, maybe I would not have had to do it." Her lip trembled as she stared into a face full of hate. She searched his eyes for anything of the man who had made love to her so gently not an hour ago but saw no trace. He had said that she wouldn't, couldn't. This was a man who was capable of looking into the face of the darkest wizard in history, the most powerful legilimens in the world, and blatantly lie. He shoved her onto the bed. "Strip, Mudblood," he commanded coldly.

She bit her lip, eyes shining with tears, and shook her head violently. She pulled herself as close to the wall as she could, pulling her knees to her chest. He growled angrily and grabbed hold of her ankle, dragging her toward him. Catching both wrists in his free hand, he pinned them above her head as he climbed on top of her, holding her down with his weight. She shrieked, struggling against him. She managed to get a leg loose and lashed out, landing a kick square on his mouth. She saw a momentary flash of surprise in his eyes – this hadn't been part of their script – but it was quickly squashed as he got her limbs firmly back under his control. He brought the hand not restraining her arms to his mouth. "That fucking hurt, bitch," he snarled. She almost expected him to hit her, but instead he undid the clasp on her jeans and shoved them down her legs. He leaned forward and she winced as most of his weight landed on her wrists. He brought his mouth to her ear – to the watching mad man it would appear that he was whispering dirty things to her. "Hermione," he whispered, "breathe. I've got you. I won't hurt you."

She relaxed at the sound of the voice she'd only ever heard directed at her, but knew she still had to put on her show. She spit in his face. Pure rage spread across his features as he wiped at his face. One handed, he pulled his trousers around his knees and shoved hers apart before settling between them. He ran a hand down her thigh as though stroking it and she felt herself grow suddenly wet. Whatever spell it was that he had used, she was grateful that he had thought of it. Without warning, he rammed into her. She cried out and thrashed beneath him. Tears rolled down her cheeks but he ignored her. After a remarkably short time, he began to thrust more erratically before pushing himself deep and letting out a groan. Hermione had felt him shoot himself into her less than an hour ago and knew what it should feel like. She knew that there had been a distinct lack of it just now, though his actions had been the same. However, his member was soft when he pulled himself from her body and hauled his trousers back up into place. She scrambled backwards from him and replaced her own clothing as quickly as possible. She looked up fearfully to see him watching her with a sneer.

"You liked that, didn't you Mudblood?" He leaned forward to caress her face. "You're going to be begging me for it soon." She bit her lip and shook her head quickly as tears flowed again down her cheeks. He chuckled darkly. "Just you wait, girl." He glanced toward the doorway. "Unfortunately, I have business that must be attended to but… I'll be back."

She waited until he was out the doorway before she curled in on herself and sobbed. She had consented to this and had assured him that she wouldn't let it eat at her, and she wouldn't. But she deserved to have this moment and besides, the mad man was expecting a show.

oOo

Severus managed to make it out of the doorway before promptly throwing up his lunch onto the hall floor.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

She did not see him again that night. Her meal had been thrust through the doorway without a word and she had been relieved to find her pill hidden amongst it as promised. Frankly she was glad that he did not try to speak with her again. She needed time alone to wallow in self-pity before she pulled herself up by her bootstraps with her head held high. _Or perhaps_ , she thought with a glance at the magical eye in the corner of the room, _not so high._ It would probably be best for both Severus and herself if she broke quickly.

Tossing the empty tray onto the floor, she laid back on the bed with a sigh. In the back of her mind, she could still feel him on top of her and it made her feel ill. Growling, she rolled onto her stomach, wrapping her arms over her head. While she appreciated the fact that he had not used the same position as they had used before, she was annoyed that every time she lay on her back she would feel him. She hoped it would fade, as she actually _liked_ to sleep on her back and he'd get an earful from her if he had ruined that forever. Closing her eyes, she attempted sleep on her belly. Thankfully, the stress and exertion of the day ensured that it came quickly.

oOo

"I have a job for you, Mudblood," he announced as he strode into the room late the next morning. "It's time for you to learn your proper place – licking my boots." She cringed away from him but he once again grabbed her by the arm and dragged her off the bed. "My house needs cleaning and if you do a good job, maybe I'll _reward_ you," he said, dragging his eyes obviously down her body.

She whimpered, pulling herself as far away from him as his grip on her arm would allow. Forcefully, he tugged her body against him, her back against his chest, and ran his free hand down her side. "Maybe I'll reward you anyway," he whispered against her ear, loud enough for the watching eye to hear. He pushed her roughly ahead of him, directing her out the doorway and through the wards. She flinched as she passed through them but felt nothing this time but the tingling.

He released her immediately once beyond the gaze of the eye. His gaze was on the floor – which he had had to _scourgify_ thoroughly after the previous evening's events – as he murmured, "Hermione-"

"Don't," she interrupted, holding a hand up to stop him. "You did what you were supposed to. I agreed to everything and you didn't hurt me."

His eyes met hers, his own black ones burning. "Your _face_." He raised his fingers to trail along the edges of the bruise that had formed beneath her eye. _From your fist_ , a sharp voice in his mind reminded him.

A smile twisted on her lips. "Yours doesn't look so great either." And it was true. His lip was fat where her foot had made contact, the flesh around it a light purple that stood out starkly against his pale skin.

"I deserved that," he said darkly.

She took a step toward him, raising her hands to his chest. He made no move to touch her. "You did not. I… panicked," she admitted.

"You were _afraid_ ," he growled. She recognized that the growl was not aimed at her, but at himself.

She didn't try to deny it. "I was meant to be." She pushed up on her toes and pressed her lips lightly to the bruise on his. "You played your part well."

He nodded sharply. "Obviously you are not required to clean my house," he said, wanting to change the subject, "but it gets you out of that damned room for a few hours."

She smiled up at him. "Thank you."

He nodded again. "You are free to do whatever you want, just don't leave the house. No one can get in without my express permission so you need not worry about someone else catching you unawares."

She nodded her understanding and stepped back from him before heading down the hallway, peeking into each door curiously along the way. Severus was annoyed to find that he missed the warmth of her body so close and that he had an insane desire to pull her back to him. It wouldn't do to go getting attached to the girl. She may be finding comfort in his arms now, but who else was there? The moment she was returned to her friends she would certainly go right back the Weasley boy. It was as it should be. Gritting his teeth, he followed her down the stairs.

oOo

"Hungry?" she called to him.

His head whipped around to see her head and shoulders poking around the doorway from the kitchen. His eyebrows rose in curiosity but he nodded. He closed his book and set it onto the table beside him and stood up from the couch. Crossing the room, he leaned against the kitchen door frame to watch her. She stood at his ancient stove setting a pot of water to boil while a knife efficiently chopped away at an onion on the counter top beside her.

"Wandless magic?" he asked, impressed. He had not known that she could do it.

She glanced over her shoulder at him. "Ginny, Neville, and I have been working on it," she told him. "Harry and Ron had too much else going on with learning Occlumency but I'm sure they'll get around to it soon." Severus snorted at that and Hermione turned around to frown at him properly. "I think you'll find that without someone _bullying_ him, Harry is actually quite decent an Occlumens."

He had the grace to avert his gaze and bite back his scathing retort. He heard her sigh and cross the room to him. Her arms went around his waist and her head rested against his chest. "Sorry," she murmured. "Do you want me to heal your lip?"

He shook his head even as his arms went around her. "If you can't heal yours, you can't heal mine."

She bit her lip, riding out the fluttering in her gut. _This_ was the man she had wanted so desperately yesterday evening. "How will you explain to the Dark Lord why you haven't done it?"

His nostrils flared and he knew she had him there. "Fine," he said shortly.

She smiled up at him briefly before it fell from her face. "I don't have my wand," she explained. "Some things I can do without it," here she gestured to the knife working on its own, "but I wouldn't want to risk it with healing. Especially not on your face."

He smirked suddenly, reaching into the pocket of his over coat. "Today is your lucky day."

Her eyes widened when she saw him holding her wand and snatched it from his hand. "Severus! Oh, Merlin, my _wand_ ," she exclaimed. She threw herself against him and pressed a hard kiss to his lips.

He winced and she pulled back, a question in her eyes. He cleared his throat. "Perhaps heal the lip first before thanking me," he said, an undercurrent of amusement laced in his voice.

She blushed before tapping the tip of her wand against his swollen lip and stating the incantation. When she was satisfied by the results, she flung herself on him again, hands twining through his hair.

He felt in that moment that he was on the edge of a precipice. One step and he would be done for. As her tongue traced his lips and he felt his body's natural reaction, he knew. From the moment he had set foot in that blasted library he'd been lost. He just hadn't known it until now.

 **A/N: I appreciate the support from everyone so far. I feel like this fanfic is going to be a softer Severus kind of thing, though I'm sure most of you have noticed that already. Reviews are always appreciated. I always like to hear comments, suggestions, and thoughts and encourage you all to share them with me. Thanks for reading.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

The next week progressed in much the same manner and Hermione slowly implemented her plan to visibly break. By the end of the week, he merely needed to call her and she came to him without a fight. It took every ounce of skill she possessed to be able to act the part of meek and broken when all she wanted to do was throw herself at him. He had allowed her to kiss him and had even reciprocated enthusiastically but had never allowed it to go beyond that. The circumstances of the last time had been extreme, she reminded herself. Of course he had no desire to repeat the experience. She glanced up from the bed to see the man himself standing in the doorway, just on the other side of the wards, watching her. She met his gaze steadily and he gave her a small smile before letting it drop and stepping through the wards.

"Come here," he ordered roughly.

She infused her expression with a dose of fear but scrambled to her feet and crossed the room to where he stood. "Sir?"

He raised a hand to stroke her hair with the backs of his fingers. "Good girl," he crooned. "Are you begging for it yet?"

Her eyes widened and her lip trembled but she answered in a small voice, "If it's what you want, sir."

He hummed loudly. "My, my, _such_ a good girl." He grabbed her hand and pulled her out the door. When he led her across the hall to his bedroom she couldn't help but feel a small flare of hope in her chest.

"I need healing," he said lowly, turning to her.

Instantly her thoughts of _that_ evaporated. "Where? Show me," she insisted and stretched out her hand for her wand, which she knew he carried in his coat pocket. Obviously she could not be seen to have it in her room and so he kept it safe on his person. He obliged her request for her wand but hesitated at showing her the location of his wounds. She huffed. "Really, Severus, I've seen you naked. Just show me."

He scowled but did as she instructed, his hands going to his belt buckle. Taking a deep breath, he dropped his trousers but he needn't have worried, as her eyes were immediately drawn to the burn on his thigh. She dropped to her knees, leaning forward to inspect the damage, but a very different scenario sprang to his mind and he bit back a growl in his throat. She was casting diagnostic charms over the burn, paying no mind to him.

"Burn paste?" she asked as she began healing the damage as best she could with wand alone.

He summoned the jar wordlessly and handed it to her silently.

"Thanks," she murmured, turning her attention back to his leg. As she finished and turned her gaze up to his, she caught sight of a very distinct problem that he was having in the vicinity of her face. "Oh." Meeting his smoldering black eyes, she slowly brought a hand to the erection in his pants.

He swallowed thickly and groaned at the feeling of her explorations but he bit back the feelings and took a step back from her. Pulling his trousers back up and fastening them properly, he avoided meeting her gaze. She was on her feet now and closing the distance between them. Leaning up on her toes, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed a kiss to his throat while her body pressed against him.

Grasping her arms firmly, he pushed her back from him. "Hermione, _no_." His tone was not sharp but he could still see the confusion and the hurt in her face.

"Sorry," she muttered, turning away from him.

It certainly wasn't that he didn't want her. _Merlin_ , he wanted her. But he knew that even he could only be pushed so far and used so much. For her, he was convenient, nearby, there. For him… well he hadn't felt so strongly for another human being in twenty years and it scared him shitless. He knew that he couldn't keep giving himself and not fall. He would hit hard when she left, which she would. She _should_. But he wasn't about to lay himself down as a sacrifice in the meantime. He also didn't want to lose her, not completely.

"Hermione," he called after her. She paused but didn't turn back toward him. "I can't."

"Why _not_?" she demanded, whirling to face him. "You already did."

He paused, considering his words carefully. "The circumstances were… different. I'm not made of stone, Hermione. I can't keep doing this without…"

Realization dawned on her slowly. "You think I don't want you?"

"I think that I'm convenient," he said, cringing inwardly at how needy and unsure he sounded. _Like a bloody child_ , he sneered at himself.

"Severus, no." She crossed back to him, wrapping her arms around him gently. "I do want you. You, in particular."

He stared down at her, hardly daring to think too hard about her words. "If, after you are returned from here, it is still what you want, it can be considered then. Until then, _this_ ," he gestured between them, "cannot happen again."

She nodded her understanding. She was willing to wait. Unbeknownst to him, he was what she had wanted for quite some time now. Clinical she may have been all those nights in the library as she healed his wounds, but she certainly wasn't blind and she certainly hadn't missed the gentle way with which he had spoken to her even then and when he had been in pain.

 _He fell unceremoniously onto the couch across from her chair and started immediately on unbuttoning his shirt. She looked up from her book sharply, not having realized that he had arrived._

 _"Shit," he hissed as the button slipped out of his grasp. His fingers were trembling so hard that it made it impossible to maneuver them._

 _"Let me," she murmured, moving from her armchair to help him. She could see in his eyes that he wanted to protest but instead he just sighed and let his head fall back against the cushions. "I promise never to tell anyone that I assisted the great Severus Snape with undressing," she teased him gently. A hint of a smile tugged at his lips before another spasm rocked through his body. "Cruciatus?"_

 _"Mmm," he agreed. "Too long."_

 _"Well, we'll see what we can do about that." She tried to keep her hands steady as best she could, the intimacy of the moment not lost on her. Had he been in less pain from aftershocks and whatever lay underneath his clothing, she was sure he would have felt it too._ But then, _she reminded herself,_ if he weren't, you wouldn't be undressing him in the first place _. She finished with the buttons and moved to pull the pieces apart._

 _His eyes closed as she heard her hiss at the sight. He had a vague idea of what she would find. The woman's boot had connected solidly with his ribs and it had taken him a moment to get her back under control, during which time she had landed several good hits on him. A desperate woman was not one to be trifled with and she had kicked repeatedly at the same place with a great deal of force. Granger didn't usually ask for too many details as to how his injuries were sustained, and for that he was unspeakably grateful. He didn't think he would be physically able to tell her that he had been kicked by the woman while he was trying to rape her, shortly before he'd had to kill her. Of course the Dark Lord, who had watched the whole ordeal – the sick bastard – had not been pleased that he had lost control of her in the first place and had proceeded to punish him thoroughly when the deed was done._

 _"Broken," she announced and he lifted his head a tad to see her kneeling in front of him, her wand pointed in the direction of his ribcage. "This is going to sting._ Episkey _." He bit back a yelp as the broken bones snapped back into place and fused. "I don't have any bruise paste so I'm not sure I can do much for the bruising but I'm sure you probably have some at home, right?"_

 _He nodded wordlessly. He probably wouldn't bother. He deserved what he'd got – he certainly got off better than the other guy. He shivered, hoping that Granger would mistake it for a tremor. Head dropping back to the couch cushions, he stared up at the ceiling without bothering to button his shirt back yet._

 _Hermione took the opportunity to let her eyes rake over him, taking in the various scars that littered his chest and abdomen. Clearly the man worked out to keep in shape. He had a very demanding position, after all. She felt her stomach squirm pleasantly and she raised an eyebrow in surprise at it. That was new._


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

"Hermione," he ground out from the doorway. She jumped, not having known that he was there. "I need you."

She glanced wide-eyed at the magical equivalent of a security camera. What in hell was he thinking? She crossed the room to him and took his outstretched hand without answering him. He pulled her through the doorway and led her wordlessly across the hall to his room. He dropped her hand and silently started to unbutton his overcoat. "Severus?" she murmured in askance.

He ignored her and kept working on his buttons, though she could have sworn that she saw him sway. Was he drunk? She gasped as his coat fell open and she saw the blossom of red across his previously white shirt. As she watched, a single drop of blood gathered on the hem of his shirt and splattered to the floor with a _plop_ that was deafening in the silence of his room. Immediately her hands went to the buttons there and started undoing them as quickly as she could.

"Wait," he said, holding up his hands to stop her. He moved to sit down on the floor but his legs didn't quite have the strength and he ended up collapsing instead.

"Severus!" she exclaimed, following him down to the floor. Her hand dove into his pocket and grasped at the wand she found. As she pulled it out and made a slicing motion, causing the rest of his buttons to pop loose and scatter over the floor, she registered vaguely that it was his wand rather than hers. She pulled his shirt apart urgently and nearly choked at what lay underneath. How had he even gotten _back_ here? Her eyes flicked to his face and she was unsurprised to see him staring unfocused at the ceiling, face contorted and breath coming in harsh pants.

It almost looked as though he had been attacked by an animal. Large, ragged cuts crisscrossed his belly, their depth not in any way uniform. In some places only the top layer of skin was grazed. In others muscle and fat had been dissected, leaving her able to just barely peek into his abdominal cavity. There was blood everywhere, smeared all over his skin and pooling on the floor around her knees. "Fuck," she muttered. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

She wordlessly summoned a blood replenishing potion, knowing that in his house it would be odd _not_ to find one, and nearly poured it down his throat before remembering that he was still actively bleeding and would just lose it all. She needed to stop the bleeding first. She cast a diagnostic spell over his prone form first – no good closing him up if he was bleeding from the inside. The spell came back clean. No internal bleeding. She set the tip of his wand against the edge of the deepest slash. Biting her lip against the sound of him groaning in pain, she dragged it along the wound and was intensely relieved to see it closing up behind her, as though she were zipping up his flesh. She did the same along the next slice. Satisfied that she could at least no longer see any of his internal organs, she uncorked the blood replenisher and pressed it to his lips. He opened his mouth obediently and swallowed it down. She turned her attention back to his wounds and saw that she had been right. The instant the replenisher had hit his tongue, the bleeding had intensified. She hadn't realized just how much blood he had lost until he had more of it to lose. She realized in a panic that the blood flow had slowed because he had been _running out_. "Severus Snape, don't you dare fucking die on me, you son of a bitch," she snarled. Even in his deliriously pained state, he huffed out a short laugh. As quickly as she could, she zipped up the rest of his wounds and summoned a pain potion. She tipped it into his mouth followed quickly by another swig of blood replenisher.

She sat on hands and knees beside him, chest heaving as the adrenaline still coursed through her system. Slowly as she watched, his eyes came into better focus and he turned his head slightly to look at her. "Hermione," was all he said, but she could hear the gratitude and… the _fear_ behind it. She leaned forward to grab his chin and press a searing kiss to his lips.

"Don't you _dare_ do that again," she chastised him.

"I'll try my best." He dropped his head back to the floor with a _thud_.

"We need to get you into bed," she said as she began to cast cleansing charms on him, vanishing the copious amounts of blood from his skin.

He seemed to notice for the first time what it was in her hand and his eyebrows knitted together. "My wand?"

"It was in your pocket," she answered. "I needed _something_. You were dying, Severus."

"Doesn't usually work for anyone else," he muttered. His eyes were closing against his will.

Her hands on his face startled his eyes open again. "Severus, baby, not yet. We have to get you into bed." She tipped one more swallow of pain potion into his mouth before getting to her feet. She reached down and grabbed hold of his hands. "You have to help me; I can't lift you."

"Jus' levitate me," he mumbled. His words were starting to slur and he just wanted to _sleep_.

She blinked at him dumbly for a moment. "You want me to levitate you into bed?"

"Yeah."

Raising her eyebrows, she did as he asked, careful not to bump him on anything. Once he was safely there, she pulled his rumpled bed sheets over him and turned to clean the blood off the floor. She doubted he cared right this second but she hated seeing it there. It was an awful reminder of just how close he had been a moment ago to death. Thank Merlin she was a witch. Muggle medicine would not have been close, not here. Even if she could have stopped the bleeding, she would not have been able to replace what he'd lost and she had no clue what she would have sewn him up with. Turning back to the bed, she found him fast asleep, his mouth ever so slightly ajar.

She made it as far as his door before it hit her with a jolt. She couldn't get back through the wards into her room. Not without mind bending pain wracking her body. She crossed carefully back to the bed. He hesitated, not wanting to wake him up but not having much of a choice. "Severus," she called gently as she slid her fingers through his hair.

"Mmm," he groaned.

"Severus, I can't get back into my room. The wards…"

He turned his head into her hand. "Cover's blown. S'why almost dead. Sleep with me."

Her stomach clenched and her hand stilled suddenly as her whole body stiffened. "Blown? Are we safe here?"

"Mhmm," he agreed, then insisted, "Sleep here."

She knew she wouldn't get an intelligible answer out of him right now. It would have to wait until morning. So, using his wand, which she had set on his night stand, she summoned a calming draught, downed it, and crawled into bed beside him.

 **A/N: Reviews are wonderful, friends.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

When her eyes opened, she knew immediately that he was awake. She could feel his eyes on her. She rolled over in his arms to face him. "Morning," she murmured. "How do you feel?"

He swallowed. "Like death."

"You came close." He nodded silently. "Your cover was blown?"

He let out a long breath between his teeth. "Yes. I am number one on the Most Wanted list. I probably beat Potter right now."

"What _happened_? Severus, I could see _into you_. How in hell did you get here?" she demanded in rapid succession.

"You were here," he said simply. "It was Dolohov's spell. The one he used on you. Skips right through clothing to get to the really good stuff." His tone was dry.

"But… how?" she pressed.

He sighed and ran a hand across her arm. She ignored the trail of goose bumps his fingers left in their wake. "I was not… in full form last night," he admitted. "The Dark Lord was in a lecturing mood and I made the mistake of letting my mind wander for no longer than a second. It was enough." Before he had realized his mistake, the monster had slipped into his mind and caught the barest hint of Hermione – his mouth on hers, her body pressed against him. _"If, after you are returned from here, it is still what you want, it can be considered then."_ He hadn't even had time to make excuses, to grovel, to explain himself before the hall had been filled with a shrieking accusation and Dolohov's wand had been on him. The man's gleeful face had loomed large over him while he ripped him to shreds. He had been left to bleed to death on the floor. They had underestimated him. As soon as their backs were turned he had staggered to his feet and apparated home. His one and only goal was to get to Hermione. Nothing short of sheer will power had propelled him.

"And they can't get in here?"

"No. It was the one thing I managed to do before I reached you. No one can get in or out until I raise the wards."

"Well that isn't happening right now," she informed him. "You need to rest. You _scared_ me, Severus. I thought you were going to die." Her eyes started to sting. "There was so much _blood_." She choked on the word.

He pulled her body close against him. "I'm sorry," he murmured. He couldn't remember the last time he had said those words but she deserved to hear them. He knew how close to death he had come. It wasn't good when your internal organs were visible from the outside. Truth be told, he was exhausted and could happily spend the day in bed napping beside her soft, warm body. Nearly dying really took it out of him.

"Severus?"

"Yes?"

"That day at the battle. A Death Eater hit me with a cruciatus curse." His arms tightened around her and she felt his growl rumbling deep in his chest. "When it was released, he was slashed open on the ground. Was… was that you?"

He hesitated. "Yes," he admitted slowly.

"What happened to him?" she asked.

"He died."

"Thank you," she whispered.

He looked down at her sharply. "I killed a man." He felt no remorse for killing the man. He had killed many people in his time and this one at least _deserved_ it. Not only had the man hurt her, but he had hurt many others in his life. He had tortured, raped, and killed a great many people and _enjoyed_ it. The world was undoubtedly a better place without him in it.

She shrugged in his arms. "It's war. He wasn't the first, nor the last. Not even for you," she added softly. She had no illusions of who the man beside her was, what he had done, or what he would continue to do if necessary. "Who was he?"

"Rodolphus Lestrange."

She stiffened. "That bitch Bellatrix's husband?" she spat.

He blinked for a moment in surprise at her vehemence but nodded, knowing that she could feel the motion.

"I want to tear her apart," Hermione hissed. "Piece by fucking piece."

He looked down at her, one eyebrow cocked, but she was pulling away from. She raised her left arm from under the blankets and waved her right hand over the forearm. When the letters started to appear, he sat bolt upright, grabbing her arm and pulling it closer. _Mudblood_. Rage boiled instantly in his chest. "You may not get the chance," he growled darkly. He recognized the work of that ridiculous knife of hers.

"I think it was supposed to be a sick mockery of the Dark Mark." She pulled his left arm against hers, their marks side by side. The predator and the prey.

Desperately trying to dampen his anger, he moved his hand over hers, wrapping his fingers around it and squeezing. She leaned into his side and he let go of her hand to wrap his arm around her. His hand came to rest on her waist and pulled her closer. She turned her face into him, hugging her arm against her chest. "If it is within my power, I'll save her for you to play with," Severus offered and she laughed darkly.

"You do know how to treat a lady."

oOo

When he woke, she was no longer beside him. His hand grasped at the blankets where her body had been while a stab of panic gripped his chest. Had someone gotten into the house while he slept? The idea was farfetched but not ridiculous. But no, he assured himself, Hermione would never have let herself be taken while he slept. With a groan, he hauled himself out of bed and to his feet. He bothered with putting on neither shoes nor a shirt, instead shuffling out into the hallway bare footed and bare chested. Hearing noises in the kitchen, he made his way slowly down the stairs, holding hard onto the hand rail along the wall. His body ached from the wounds that he had sustained and had healed the previous night. He would live, thanks to Hermione, but he would be sore for a while. By the time he made it to lean on the kitchen door frame, he was regretting his decision to challenge the stairs.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, noticing his presence. She hurried over to him, turning her back on the vegetables she had been chopping when he entered. Taking his arm, she slung it around her waist and helped him to the kitchen table, where he plopped contentedly into a chair.

"Thank you," he murmured. "I didn't realize how-" his sentence was split by a yawn "-tired I was."

She slid a hand through his hair, fingers massaging his scalp lightly as she did so. "As well you should be. I'm making some lunch. It's nothing fancy. You don't have much food in here," she said with a wry smile.

"I never had much need," he answered absently, entranced by what she was doing to his scalp. Spine tingling shivers ran down from her fingertips before racing through the entirety of his body. "I only had myself to feed and I don't need fancy." He only barely managed to stop himself from making a noise of protest as she removed her hand and returned to chopping her veggies. He sighed. "We need to get you home soon." He hated himself even as the words fell from his lips. But as much as he wanted to keep her here all to himself, she was needed elsewhere. She had important work to do. And he… Well, he needed to figure out what the hell he was going to do next himself.

"You should stay at Grimmauld Place," she told him conversationally. He started to protest but she cut him off. "The Dark Lord knows where this place is. Headquarters are well-protected. He can't get into them. You'll be safe there." She continued under breath so he couldn't hear her, "With me."

"Hermione, I don't know if-"

"Harry and Ronald can shove it up their arses for all I care," she said fiercely. "Anyway," she continued in a more normal tone, "we aren't going anywhere until you're closer to full strength. You said that no one could get in or out until you raised the wards and I anticipate that they'll be waiting to pile in as soon as you do just that. So. We'll see how you feel tomorrow. And think about it."

She made a valid point. He was a powerful wizard but even he couldn't keep the Dark Lord out indefinitely. He just didn't know if he could stand to see Hermione with that ginger-haired moron every day. "I'll think about it."


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

They stood in his living room together, his chest pressed against her back. She had her wand in hand, body tense. He was preparing to raise the wards, after which he would apparate them out immediately.

"Ready?" he asked, his breath warm on her ear.

She nodded once, firmly, and he raised his wand in his right hand while his left arm wrapped around her middle. She felt the tingle as the wards dropped and heard the _pop_ of apparition. Her eyes focused on the death eater that had appeared in the room, by all accounts looking very surprised to be there.

Severus's arm tightened around her and she felt herself being pulled into his side-along. Split seconds before the room disappeared from her view, she felt pain erupt in her chest. Her scream was lost to the void of apparition, but as the steps of Grimmauld Place formed around them, she felt him stiffen. She managed to cut it off sharply as he lifted her easily and threw open the door. Without hesitation he turned left into the library and laid her down on the couch beside the fireplace.

She was panting as he asked, "Where?" She clawed at her chest. It felt as though someone had taken a hammer, broken her chest open, and was ripping out her arteries one by one. They had decided to be artistic and rearrange them on the outside of her body. And the feeling was spreading. She could feel it creeping along her skin predatorily, sliding through her veins toward her throat, her arms, her belly. She hardly noticed when he shoved her shirt up to her armpits and pressed his wand to her chest. The feeling suddenly reversed, though it fought hard as it gave up ground, as a living, sentient being would, the pain increasing exponentially. She gritted her teeth and bit back the scream that wanted to come forth. When, finally, it stopped completely, she lay panting on the couch, staring up at the ceiling.

"What the fuck _was_ that?" she gasped out.

"Irradiant curse," he informed her flatly.

"Fuck," she muttered. The accounts that she had read had certainly not exaggerated the level of pain that it inflicted upon the victim. "And you sat reading calmly." She realized suddenly the level of tolerance that he must have. She felt a crushing wave of grief that he had had to develop it. Carefully, she pulled her shirt back into its proper place and pulled herself into a sitting position.

"Unfortunately, I have had a wealth of experience of such things," he said dryly.

She didn't trust herself to reply and so she held her hand out to him. He obligingly helped her to her feet. She leaned into him momentarily, breathing in the scent of him to steady herself. "Shall we?"

He nodded shortly and pulled away from her. They did not touch at all as they walked silently to the kitchen, where she was reasonably certain that most of them would be at nine o'clock on a Sunday morning. He stepped through the doorway first and noticed with annoyance the three pair of eyes that narrowed at his presence. For fuck's sake, they should realize by now that he was _on their side_. He moved aside and let Hermione come through after him.

"Hermione!" someone – it sounded like Weasley – yelled. She was nearly crushed by the bodies as both the ginger and Potter threw themselves at her. Neville watched from the table. A huge grin split his face but Severus didn't miss the way that the boy kept a wary eye on him.

She winced. "Careful, boys," she protested.

Immediately he was set with a glare. "You hurt her," Weasley accused.

He opened his mouth to lay into the boy but she beat him to it. "Ronald, no," she said sharply. "I was cursed by a death eater while we were trying to get here. Severus has just healed me and I'm a bit sore."

"Hermione," the boy said softly, moving to plant a kiss on her cheek.

She jumped in surprise, glancing up at Severus uneasily. He was glaring at a wall behind her, the lines of his face rigid. His teeth were gritted so hard he was sure he'd be sore in the morning. She made a noise of protest, pushing the boy away from her. He looked at her in confusion.

"Hermione, what…?" He reached out to her with one hand, placing it on her forearm.

She bit her lip, looking up again at Severus before shying away from the boy's hands. Instead she leaned into _him_ and reached for his arm, twining her fingers through his firmly. He looked down at her blankly but his head was reeling. This was unexpected. Was she spurning Weasley for _him_? When she had been a prisoner, sure, he had been the only person available, a solid body to provide comfort, but he had completely expected her to return to the ginger's side when she returned. He had prepared for that. He tried to extract himself. "Miss Granger-"

"It's Hermione and you fucking know it," she snarled, tightening her grip on him.

His eyes flicked to the boys watching them incredulously. Longbottom looked as though he might lose his breakfast onto the polished stone floor. "Hermione," he started again, lower, "I don't think now is-"

She turned her gaze to Ron and Harry. "Would you please give us a moment alone?" she asked sweetly.

Ron started to protest but Harry grabbed him by the elbow, shutting him up. "Yeah just don't take too long. We were worried about you, Hermione," he said earnestly. He gestured Neville to join them. He then proceeded to drag his red-haired friend out into the hall, where the three of them waited just outside the door. Within hearing range, Harry hoped. With a silent grin and a finger pressed to his lips directed at Ron, he heard them start talking again, muffled only slightly by the wooden door.

"Hermione, what are you doing?" he asked softly, looking down at her still clinging to his hand.

"I should think that was obvious. We went through a lot together. We _did_ a lot together. I owe you my life."

He grimaced. "I never expected you to repay that. I do not want you out of obligation and if you thought that I would-"

"It's what I want," she interrupted him fiercely. " _You're_ what I want. And if you recall, you owe me your life too, so that makes us even." She sighed and continued more calmly, "I don't want to go back to 'Miss Granger' and 'Professor'. Severus, I've seen you at your softest and I've seen you at your darkest and I've seen you bleeding out onto the floor. I woke up warm and safe in your arms this morning and I was _happy_. I swear to Merlin, if you make me go back to calling you 'sir' and pretending that none of that ever happened, I will lose my mind." She paused and moved closer to him. Her hands slid up his chest and she smiled when his went instinctively to her hips. "I don't want to lose you."

His heart skipped a beat. "You're… sure about this?" he asked hesitantly. "Have you considered a touch of Stockholm syndrome?"

She snorted. "You weren't really the captor, so unless I start singing out praises to Voldemort-" he hissed at the name and she smiled apologetically "-I wouldn't think too much about that if I were you." She lifted a hand to his face, fingertips trailing across his skin. "I think I need you, Severus." He hesitated, staring into her face and seeing nothing but sincerity. "Think about it. You know where to find me." She stood up on her toes and pressed a kiss to his lips. Then she backed out of his hold and left him standing alone in the kitchen.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

"HARRY JAMES POTTER, RONALD BILIUS WEASLEY, EXPLAIN YOURSELVES THIS INSTANT."

Harry had the grace to look contrite. Neville, who was greatly regretting his decision to eavesdrop and who Hermione was currently ignoring, was hoping desperately to melt into the wall. Ron, however, puffed out his chest and prepared to do battle.

"Expl- explain _ourselves_?!" he exploded, his face a brilliant shade of scarlet. "I think you need to explain _yourself_!"

"I owe you no such thing," she snarled back. "You lot, however, were listening in on a private conversation!" She leveled Neville with a baleful stare. "From these two I expected as much. From you, I expected better."

The boy blushed. He had grown a lot over the years and truly come into his own, but staring down a livid Hermione Granger was still a bit beyond his capability. She had been his first champion, standing up for him and encouraging the talent she saw in him from the moment they had met on the train and he didn't know if he would ever be able to face her down. "Sorry," he mumbled.

" _Snape_?" Ron hissed, drawing her attention back to himself.

"Not that it's any of your business, but yes." Her tone was firm, her face daring them to argue.

"It bloody well _is_ my business!" he snarled back. "You were mine when you left."

She could feel her blood starting to boil. "Yours? Yours, Ronald? I am _not_ a possession and we were _not_ in a relationship," she retorted sharply.

Harry spoke up finally. "But Hermione… why?"

She paused, considering what she should tell them. "He saved me, Harry. And I saved him too. He nearly _died_." She took a deep breath, pushing the image of his mangled torso from her mind. "He's good to me."

Ron snorted. "He's brainwashed you, you mean."

She turned a glare on him that could melt glass. "Do you think that I am so feeble-minded that I would swoon at the feet of any man who looks my way?"

"You sure didn't swoon at mine," he muttered angrily.

"Don't be a child," she snapped at him, "throwing a fit because you didn't get your way."

"I'm throwing a fit because he's _using_ you."

She huffed. "For what, exactly?"

Ron sneered at her, an expression which was entirely unsuited to his face – Severus did it much better. "He just wants to get you into bed, Hermione."

She barely restrained herself from hurling back an answer that she did not wish to share. Oh, but to see the look on his face if she told him that Severus had already had her there. She was nearly tempted to do it, simply for the pleasure of watching his triumphant expression crumble. "And why is that?" she asked, her tone going soft. From the corner of her eye, she saw Neville edge farther away from her. _Smart boy_.

Oblivious to the brewing storm, Ron continued. "Well, what else could he want?"

"Because there's no way that he would actually want _me_ , right Ronald?"

His eyes widened. "Hermione, no, I didn't mean-"

"Talk some sense into him before I strangle him with my bare hands," she growled at Harry before she stormed up the stairs to her room.

Severus, still standing in the kitchen, waited until their footsteps had receded before making his way to the front porch and apparating away.

oOo

She was curled in her usual armchair by the fire when she felt his presence. Setting aside her book, she looked up to see him sitting on the couch across from her and watching her with what she could almost call _nerves_. She smiled softly at him. "Severus," she greeted.

He swallowed thickly. "If you're sure that it's – that _I_ – am really what you want, I can't refuse you."

"I'm sure," she assured him evenly. She crossed the space between them and sat down at his side. Pulling her feet up onto the couch, she curled into his side, biting her lip against a smile when his arm came around her. She sat silently for a moment, enjoying the feeling of his warmth against her. "Does this make you my boyfriend?" she asked lightly, knowing just where to poke him.

He grimaced. "I am not a teenager, Hermione."

She laughed. "Thank Merlin for that." She reached over to thread her fingers through his where they rested on her waist. "Where did you go today?" If he had been fighting his way through Death Eaters to get into his home, he sure didn't look it.

"Hogwarts." She looked up at him in surprise and he continued. "Under my cloak, naturally. I needed to speak with Minerva." He could feel her unspoken question. Sighing, he ran his free hand through his hair. "I… wasn't certain what I should do," he admitted. It had surely been an uncomfortable visit, wherein he had had to grudgingly inform the woman of what had transpired, but he had needed the insight of his old friend. He had felt too close to the subject to make a proper decision. She had instructed him in no uncertain terms that he was to "march over to her this moment take his chance at what made him happy for once in his bloody life."

She turned in his grip, moving to face him while dropping her knees on either side of him. Straddling his lap, she kissed him soundly. "I'm glad you came back," she murmured into his lips.

"Hermione, you were injured today," he objected firmly.

She nodded. "I know. I promise I'll rest. I just like kissing you," she said coyly.

He willed himself not to blush. _Body, don't you dare betray me_ , he groaned inwardly. "This also may not be the most… appropriate… location for such things."

"The boys know I chose you."

He smirked. "I know." He watched as her eyebrows drew together, the cogs turning hard before clicking into place.

"Oh, right. Sorry," she apologized with a twisted smile.

"Still though," he continued, "I… would not like for anyone to walk in."

She shrugged, gathering that he was uncomfortable with the public display, and crawled off his lap. "Come along then." Without waiting for an answer, she began to walk out of the library. Obediently he followed.

From the kitchen, a ginger-haired head poked out of the doorway. "Hermione," Ron called. His eyes locked with Severus's and his eyes widened.

Hermione growled deep in her throat and snapped, "Not now, Ronald."

Severus threw the boy a dark look before stepping up onto the stairs after _his_ witch. He caught a glance of the boy's mouth opening and closing wordlessly before turning his back on him. She led him to the second floor landing, where she crossed the hall to the third door on the left. He stepped through the doorway, shutting the door behind himself. He had hardly locked the thing before she had thrown herself at him, lips, teeth, and tongue playing across his neck. Groaning, it took a moment for him to gather his wits.

"Hermione," he said gently, running his hands down her sides, "Merlin, you have no idea how much I want this but you were injured today and you need to rest. You promised that you would," he reminded her. "Not tonight."

She pulled back, her face nearly a pout. "Fine then, but you're staying with me." He nodded and she tugged at his coat. "This is going to have to go if you want me to let you into my bed, you know."

The shadow of a smile pulled at the corner of his lip. He shrugged out of the coat as she asked and with a wave of his hand, it hung itself on the back of a chair in the corner of the room. Her hands went to the buttons at his collar.

"This as well."

He did not assist her with removing his shirt, as, for some reason, she seemed to enjoy battling with the buttons. He had to admit that he enjoyed watching her fiddling with them as well. It cast his mind toward things… that would not be happening tonight. The circumstances surrounding the first time had been ridiculous and frankly disturbing. He would not be rushing a damn thing this time. She deserved to be treated right, and to allow her to jump him tonight, as she so clearly wanted to do, would not be treating her right. Her body had been subjected to an incredibly dark and painful curse today and he had no intentions of straining it. He shrugged the garment from his shoulders when she finished with his buttons and reached to undo his belt. That was territory he didn't think he should let her venture into in her current state. He sent that, too, to the chair. She was staring at him almost hungrily, but with a smirk in her direction, he waved his hand down his front and his trousers transfigured themselves into a light pair of sleeping pants.

She rolled her eyes with a laugh and turned away from him to go dig in her closet. He strode toward the bed and slid on top of the blanket, stretching out and staring up at the ceiling. Watching her change clothes felt invasive, somehow. He wasn't sure that their new relationship warranted such a thing. For his part, she had seen his bare torso many a time and he was no longer self-conscious about it. He, however, had seen her body only once and he wasn't sure how much that counted now. He felt the bed dip and turned his head to see her climbing up beside him. She wore a loose tank top and a pair of baggy shorts. She was biting her lip and he could feel the tension from her. He held out an arm and she broke out in a smile as she burrowed against his side. Her head dropped against his shoulder and she took in a deep breath of him.

She could hear his heart beating like a drum against her cheek and for some reason it felt odd to her. Obviously he had a heart. She felt ridiculous even thinking such a thing. He was a human being, after all. But he was… more. He was almost a super hero. Albeit a dark, brooding, sarcastic one who had made some questionable choices in his past and murdered innocents to keep his cover. She threaded one leg over his, tucking her foot beneath his other shin. She almost couldn't believe that he was here. She had hoped, of course, but she had not been nearly as sure as she had pretended to be. But now, here he was in her bed of his own free will. No Dark Lord hovering in the corner, no orders looming.

"Ronald is going to have a cow when you're still here in the morning," she observed.

His arm tightened on her instinctively. "I do not give a fuck what Weasley is going to have."

She grinned, craning her neck to meet his gaze. "I don't suppose you could give me 'just shagged' hair before breakfast?"

His body instantly reacted but he did his best to keep his voice level. The sudden heat in eyes gave him away though, as he calmly stated, "I'll see what I can do." Merlin, it was going to be a long night.

 **A/N: I'm going to go ahead and clear up the questions I'm sure I'll be getting. Severus killed Dumbledore. However, the Order knows the truth and still trusts him (with obvious exceptions). The trio did not go on the run. Instead they teamed up with Ginny and Neville and are working out of Grimmauld Place.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

"Where's Snape?" sneered Ron as Hermione came into the kitchen alone for breakfast. "Got what he wanted and split, did he?"

Her eyes were sharp but she kept her tone mild. "For your information, _Ronald_ , Severus is in the shower." Feeling vindictive, she added, "To which I was invited but declined in order to come down here instead. A decision that I am regretting." It was a lie, but Ron didn't need to know that. Merlin, how she had longed to follow him into the shower, but he had firmly told her that she needed breakfast first and then they could revisit the thought. She had wanted to argue, but a well-timed rumble from her stomach had cut her off, and so she had grudgingly agreed.

Ron's face reddened and he looked to Harry for support. Harry looked ill but refused to get involved.

The silence, blessedly, continued as Hermione poured herself a bowl of cereal and began to eat. When Severus descended the stairs and settled himself in the chair beside her with a bowl of his own, she nearly thought the boys' eyes would pop out of their heads.

"Now really, did you think that he didn't _eat_?" she demanded.

Ron blushed a deep red and turned his face away. Harry grinned sheepishly. "Not chocolate puff cereal."

Severus growled under his breath and ignored them.

A squeal from the doorway stole everyone's attention. "Hermione!" A ginger blur streaked across the kitchen, throwing its arms around the girl. "You're back!"

"Ginny!" the brunette returned. Genuine relief coursed through her. Finally someone in her corner.

"I was at Mum's. Did you get back last night?" She seemed to realize suddenly who was sitting beside her. Her hold on Hermione brought her close enough to her former Potions professor that she could almost feel the warmth rolling off him. "Er, good morning Professor."

He inclined his head, his expression almost bored. "Miss Weasley."

Hermione cleared her throat. "Severus will be staying with us. His home is… no longer safe."

This caught the boys' attention.

"My loyalties have been discovered," Severus said softly. His tone dared anyone to question him. Hermione was the only one to whom he owed any kind of explanation.

"So we don't have a spy anymore," Harry surmised flatly.

"No, but he can help us here," Hermione assured him. "Think about it, Harry. He might know where to look."

Severus's eyebrows furrowed. Look for what? He looked to Hermione for answers. Ginny had peeled herself away from her friend and was now sitting across the table from the two of them, watching them interact.

Hermione turned to her… significant other?... and blocked out everyone else. "Vol- The Dark Lord made horcruxes. Six of them. He split his soul into seven pieces."

The man was utterly still as he processed the information. Bloody hell, no wonder he was mad. That _thing_ was barely human. He had read about horcruxes, of course. The books that he frequented did not dance around the issue. There had been vague whisperings in the darker corners of society that the Dark Lord had made one of the darkest artifacts known to man, but _six_ of them? Of course Albus had been certain of the Dark Lord's return. He had known. The old man had known that the monster wasn't gone forever. And he had known why.

His eyes blazed with anger as he looked into her eyes. "Tell me what you know."

"We've destroyed a few. The…" She trailed off, glancing across the table at Ginny. The girl nodded to her. "The diary that opened the Chamber of Secrets was one. It was destroyed with basilisk's venom years ago."

Severus nodded. He was familiar with the story. While the details had not been made known to the general staff of Hogwarts, his was a particular situation and the headmaster had felt the need to inform him of what had occurred – leaving out, of course, the fact that the object contained a piece of the soul of the most evil wizard in history. He had had a few choice words with Lucius when he had caught wind. The man had been reckless to let such a thing into the hands of an eleven year old child. Lucius had admitted that he hadn't known the basilisk would be released. True to form, he insisted that he felt no regret. Severus knew better.

"Professor Dumbledore destroyed the ring. We have Slytherin's locket but we haven't found a way to destroy it yet. We suspect that he used an artifact from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw as well. A silver cup and the lost diadem, to be precise. We think that Bellatrix Lestrange has one of them. At the manor she was frantic. She wanted to know what we had taken from her vault."

Anger bubbled to the surface at the reminder of what happened at the manor. He'd kill that bitch.

"We also think that his snake is one."

His mind tumbled back to the snake. The Dark Lord certainly was fond of the thing. He kept it close at all times. Looking back on it, he had never seen the snake without its master in the immediate vicinity. Nor had he seen the Dark Lord without the animal in recent times. He was protecting it. "I think you're right." He sighed, muttering to himself, "I hate that fucking snake."

Hermione bit her lip but couldn't stop her grin. She thought the boys' eyes might pop out of their heads. Come to think of it, she didn't think they had ever heard the man curse before. They really didn't know him as a person at all. Well, that would change. She leaned toward him, bumping his arm with her shoulder. His head turned to glance at her, eyes still flashing from the influx of information. Under the table, his hand found her knee. Her stomach flopped pleasantly at the casual contact.

Leaning forward and bringing his free hand onto the tabletop, he asked urgently, "What is the plan?"

Harry and Ron exchanged glances. "We have to find the horcruxes and destroy them. Any idea where they might be?"

"Nagini will always be with the Dark Lord. She never leaves his side these days. Getting to her will be tricky. Bellatrix doubtless has one. If anyone were to be trusted with it, it would have been her. Psychotic bitch," he growled, ignoring the incredulous looks on the faces of his former students. "As for the diadem… your guess is as good as mine."

"Any ideas on how we destroy them?" Hermione spoke from his side.

He sighed, leaning back in his chair. He ran his free hand over his face. "Fiendfyre is the best option."

"None of us can cast it, let alone control it," she countered.

He smirked at her, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, bloody hell."

"Is there any reason that the horcruxes have to be destroyed before the Dark Lord dies?" He raised his voice over the protests of both Harry and Ron. " _Other_ than the fact that he can come back? They don't prevent his death, do they?"

The four young adults at the table looked at each other. Severus could almost hear the wheels turning in the heads. Hermione was the one who answered, giving him a feeble-sounding, "No?"

"So theoretically we could kill the bastard first, take out the horcruxes, and then hunt down his wraith?"

Silence met his question. He directed his gaze to the witch beside him. She was the most likely to have an answer, he knew.

Hesitantly, she said, "Theoretically, yes. But how would we go about finding the wraith after we finish off the horcruxes? And… how could we be sure we got all of them?"

"How could we be sure we got all of them even if we don't kill him off first?" he countered.

Her brows knit together. "Er… That's actually an excellent point." She looked to Harry for help. The boy shrugged. "Well," she thought aloud, "if he dies first then I suppose we wouldn't have to worry about him finding out about our hunt. But at the same time, what if he were resurrected again before we found the wraith? He could just make more." She looked up into Severus's face. "What do you think?"

"I say we take him down _now_." He paused. "But if I'm out voted, I'll stand down." Despite the fact that he was speaking of a vote, he looked only to Hermione. In the end, he knew that she would be the one to make the decision.

"Let me mull it over for a while," she said quietly. She knew he wouldn't have suggested it if he didn't think that it would work.

He nodded once. "Of course."

"Good Lord," Harry said dryly, "no wonder your cover was blown. You two need to get a room."

Hermione glared at him but there was a blush staining her cheeks. Severus scowled, directing his ire at the ceiling.

"Oh, I wasn't the only one thinking it," Ginny said, relieved that she wasn't losing her touch. "Did something happen that I don't know about?"

Ron's sneer returned full force. "They're shacking up now."

"Ronald!" Hermione screeched. "We are not _shacking up_!"

"Oh, so you two haven't shagged?"

Her eyes narrowed. "I don't see how that's any of your business, Ronald Weasley."

Severus was suddenly feeling very territorial. The Weasel was sniffing around his witch again, seeing hope. He'd only just won her. He had no intention of having to stake his claim repeatedly – especially if he were to be working with them closely for the foreseeable future. More than having his claim to her threatened, it irked him to no end that the worthless boy absolutely refused to respect the decision that she had made. The witch was strong, independent, and fierce. But if Ronald Weasley would not respect her, he _would_ respect _him_.

Hermione was out of her chair now, wand clutched in her hand at her side. Standing quickly, Severus stepped behind his witch. He wrapped his arms possessively around her middle and pulled her back against his chest.

"Why, yes, we have – as you so eloquently put it – _shagged_. She is _taken_ Weasley, and who she chooses to _shack up_ with is her decision alone. So fuck. Off." The last was said in a deep growl that Hermione could feel rumbling against her back.

The boy's mouth was opening and closing wordlessly, only an odd spluttering coming from between his lips. Harry appeared to be trying to sink into the floor and Ginny was reclining in her dining chair, a grin splitting her face from ear to ear.

Taking her elbow, Severus led his witch toward the doorway only to find Neville standing in it, his eyes wide with horror. The older wizard growled wordlessly and Neville scrambled to move out of the way.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

The door of her bedroom had hardly closed before she was pacing the floor, her steps jerky and agitated. Severus watched her for a few moments, smirking at her behavior despite the tense ball of anger coiled in his own chest. If this didn't change – and quickly – there would be no way that they would be able to accomplish the task at hand. That boy would have to learn to respect Hermione and at least tolerate Severus if this was to work.

"Ronald Weasley is an ass," she growled at the floor and if looks could kill, Severus was sure that the boy would drop dead, floor or no floor.

"Ronald Weasley is an idiot," he corrected her succinctly. "Come here." She sighed, doing as he said and moving to stand in front of him. "I apologize for what happened in there. I had no intention of revealing that much."

She snorted. "I don't give a shit who knows that."

A hint of a smile crossed his face but it was gone before she could determine whether it had really existed. He stepped closer, his hands moving to the swell of her hips. "Good, because you are _mine_ now."

The shiver that ran through her had nothing to do with the temperature of the room. In fact, if she wasn't mistaken, the temperature had just hiked up a few degrees. "Don't you?"

He stared at her blankly, his mind already having moved on to the anticipation of his second breakfast.

"Care," she clarified, seeing the lack of understanding on his face. "Who knows."

"Ah. While I can't claim eagerness to advertise what happens in my bedroom, I very much doubted that he would have backed down from the fight otherwise." He met her gaze evenly. "You deserve to be respected, Hermione."

What it said about their past interactions in what, frankly, felt like another life, that his statement made her glow with pride, she didn't want to dwell on. "As do you."

He scowled down at her and she blanched until he squeezed her hips lightly, letting a small smile through. "I don't anticipate that will be an issue. Honestly I'm just surprised that Longbottom was still on his feet when we passed him. I thought for sure he would pass out right there on the floor."

She snickered, leaning her head forward until her forehead was pressed against his chest. "Thank you for having my back."

He pulled her closer against him, their bodies flush. "It's my job." He trailed one hand lightly up her spine toward her neck, where his fingers twisted themselves into her hair.

"I've slept," she murmured. "I've even eaten."

One corner of his lips twitched. "That you have."

She looked up into his face. "What do you think, am I all better now?"

oOo

Yet again, Ronald had put his foot in his mouth. It stung and burned in ways he hadn't imagined when Hermione had rejected him, especially in favor of _him_. But Snape was right… Hermione had made her choice and Ron had to man up, grow a pair, and accept that. So, there he was, making his way up the stairs to apologize. He was far from pleased about it but that was life, he guessed.

"Hermione," he said, pushing her door open, "I'm – argh!" It took his brain only a fraction of a second to process what he was seeing. There were clothes strewn all over the floor. They were in bed. The creamy white skin of her back was to him while she straddled Snape's lap. Snape's mouth was… busy… below her neck line. He didn't seem to be wearing anything at all besides Hermione herself.

"Out!" barked Snape, pulling Hermione forward against his chest.

Ron reeled backwards, stumbling into the hall, only barely missing being clipped by the door as it slammed shut. He heard the lock click into place and then nothing but the roaring in his ears. "Fuuuuck," he muttered, squeezing his eyes shut and scrubbing at them. Sadly, the scene was seared into his brain and no matter how hard he rubbed his eyes, he couldn't get rid of it.

oOo

"Ugh, are they still going?" Ron groaned.

"Apparently, they've got a bit of exhibitionism going on," Ginny commented.

Neville made gagging sounds from his corner of the library. "That's disgusting, Gin."

"How long does it _take_?" Ron continued.

Ginny guffawed. "Of course you wouldn't know, Ronald. If you're doing it right, it'll be an hour or more. _Clearly_ , Snape knows how to please a woman."

" _Disgusting_ ," Neville muttered over his book.

"Don't be jealous, boys. I'm sure someday a nice gal will want to shag your brains out, too."

"And if you're lucky, they might be as good looking as I am," Hermione cut in, striding into the library with Snape on her heels.

Neville blushed and buried his face in the book in front of him.

Severus strode across the room and sat down in a vacant loveseat with enough space for Hermione beside him. She settled into his side.

"What are we researching?" she asked, looking around at all the books open around the room.

Harry was the one to answer. "How we might be able to break into Gringotts. We need to see if there's a horcrux in the Lestrange vault. The problem is going to be the Thief's Downfall. It's this magical waterfall that gets rid of all deceptive enchantments when you pass under it. It's supposed to protect the lower vaults from thieves and it's going to make this hell to get through."

"It would be extremely unwise of us to attempt to break into one of the most secure places on Earth without first being certain of what we're looking for," Severus drawled, raising an eyebrow at Harry.

"Oh yeah, and what would you suggest?" Ron asked sullenly.

Severus sneered at the boy's tone. "Why don't we ask?" Five pairs of eyes trained on him.

"Er, ask who?" Ginny asked finally.

He glanced around at the faces around him. "Bellatrix Lestrange."

Ron scoffed. "Oh yeah, that'll go well. Knock knock, 'Oh, hi Bella, would you mind being a dear and just telling us if you've got any horcruxes in your vault?"

"And here I thought it was obvious. We catch the bitch and get the information out of her by any means necessary."

The boys immediately protested. "I refuse to stoop to torture," Harry vowed.

"You're thinking like a fucking Death Eater," Ron sneered.

Hermione's quiet declaration cut through them. "I'll do it." They both gaped at her, mouths hanging open. "I know you think it's awful, but personally I'd love to make her scream, beg, _bleed_." She met Severus's gaze, eyes gleaming, and knew that he felt the same.

"I'll help," Neville spoke up from the other side of the room. "She's responsible for my parents… being the way they are."

"It's three against two," Hermione said. She looked to Ginny. It would be up to the younger girl to either tie them or decide.

"Well," the red-head said slowly, "I can't say that I like it or that I'll help, but… Harry, Snape's right. It isn't a good idea to rush headlong into this. It might not even be there. I say we do it."

"Fine," Ron groused. "But how do we catch her?"

Severus smiled darkly. "Leave that to me."

 **A/N: I apologize very much for how long this took. I had such a hard time with this, it was insane. After this it should hopefully go a bit smoother. The plot bunnies are strong with this one.**


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

Severus happened to know that Bellatrix Lestrange performed a bizarre twist on the walk of shame most mornings. He really wasn't sure why she bothered. It wasn't as though her husband didn't know that she spent most nights with the Dark Lord – and that was an image he did _not_ want to dwell on. He was fairly certain that Rodolphus had been having his own affair with one or both of the Carrow twins before his untimely death. But the walk of shame had continued after the death of her husband, so he assumed that the Dark Lord must have some sense of shame himself. In the dark, sure, you could forget who it was you were fucking, but in the daylight, there was no mistaking the insanity in her eyes. Maybe he forced her to leave in the morning.

And so he found himself half crouched behind the bushes outside the gates of Malfoy Manor. Hermione was behind him under Potter's cloak and he could almost feel the tension rolling off her. She had not been pleased when she had heard his plan to use himself as bait.

 _"Let me do it."_

 _He sighed, swiping a frustrated hand across his face. "Hermione, no."_

 _She pulled herself up to her full height, not quite having the effect she wanted, considering that he was a full head taller. "If you don't trust me to handle it, it's fine but I don't think that you should risk yourself. If we lose you, how will we destroy the horcruxes?"_

 _"I am trusting you to protect my back from one of the craziest and most dangerous people to walk the earth. Of course I trust you to handle it," he groused. "But it's still a no. Your job is to subdue the bitch by any means necessary while I grab her for side-along."_

She had grumbled all night – though he had managed to distract her at least for a while – and hadn't stopped until they'd taken their positions. He knew she was likely just worried that something would happen to him but Jesus, the woman was stubborn.

Now Bellatrix was walking up the drive toward the gates and his focus shifted to her instead. He tensed, ready to spring up as soon as the gates were shut.

" _Stupefy_!" Hermione cast from behind him, before he even had the chance to show himself. The jet of red shot past his shoulder to hit the witch square in the chest.

The woman dropped like a stone. Severus, wand drawn, dashed toward her, casting a diagnostic spell over her body. She was indeed out cold.

"Well that was easy," Hermione said dryly.

He didn't answer, unwilling to jinx their good luck. "Meet us back at Grimmauld." He grabbed the unconscious woman by the wrist and they blinked out of sight.

Neville was waiting for them in the entry hall. He fell in line behind Hermione, who was following Severus as he levitated the body up the stairs. They had debated where to put her. Hermione had argued for the basement because, frankly, she anticipated that this would get bloody and she didn't want to stain the floor. However, the basement was crowded with all the odds and ends that Sirius hadn't wanted in the main parts of the house but hadn't been able to bring himself to part with. And so, they'd decided on an unoccupied room on the first landing for their makeshift jail cell. Severus had cast a ward on the door similar to the one he had used on her own makeshift cell. This one, however, would not only cause excruciating pain should their captive try to escape, but also bounce her back with enough force to break bones when she inevitably hit the far wall. Hermione shivered at the tingle as she passed through it.

A single wooden chair sat in the middle of the room. Bellatrix's limp body was dumped unceremoniously onto it. Neville grabbed a length of rope beside the door and got to work first tying her hands tightly to the armrests and then her feet to the legs of the chair. To be safe, he also secured rope around her middle. Her wand was confiscated and tucked into Hermione's pocket.

" _Ennervate_." Severus flicked his wand lazily in her direction.

Her head immediately snapped up and her eyes cracked open. She looked slowly around the room and wiggled against her ropes. Her eyes focused on her jailers. She threw back her head and cackled. "Well, isn't this nice?" she jeered. "Let's see, what do we have? A Mudblood, a traitor, and an orphan. Well, not quite an orphan. How are Mummy and Daddy?" She laughed again.

Neville growled in the back of his throat and shot a stinging hex at her face. The laughter stopped abruptly.

"You little shit," she spat.

"While this is fun," Hermione cut in, "I need you to answer a question for me. Just one. I might even consider letting you go if you answer it nicely." She played with a small dagger nonchalantly. "Did your master give you an item to store for him? In your Gringotts vault perhaps?"

"How did that arm of yours heal up, Mudblood?" she taunted.

Hermione smiled. "Not well. I'm afraid you'll be leaving here with a little mark of your own, so you'll get to see for yourself how it heals. Or not. Now, are you hiding something for him?"

Severus, leaning against the wall beside the door, was staring at Bellatrix blankly. When she had looked around the room, she had briefly made eye contact with him. It was enough for him to slip unnoticed into her mind. _Fuck_ , but it was messy. He had peeked into a fair number of minds over the years. This one was undoubtedly insane. Her thoughts were jumbled and violent and, for lack of a better word, pointy. As Hermione questioned her, he could see spikes of activity but they flashed by so fast, he could hardly make sense of them. He thought might have caught a glimpse of an old-fashioned goblet that could be Hufflepuff's cup, but he needed another look to be sure. He could go digging for it, but if she knew that he was here it would make the process infinitely more difficult. He wouldn't be the one to deprive anyone here of their due fun but for the sake of information gathering, it would be best to do this quickly and quietly. After they had what they needed, Longbottom and Hermione could do whatever they liked with the bitch. He wasn't one to judge.

Bellatrix spit at her. It fell short, but Hermione frowned. "How rude." She stepped toward their captive. "I think you need a lesson in manners."

Severus, when discussing tactics, had told her that any damage to the Dark Mark, no matter how small, was interpreted as an attempt at removal, even something as minor as a papercut. As such, the damage was rewarded with incredible levels of pain – a built in deterrent for trying to bail on the Death Eaters.

Bellatrix's eyes widened as Hermione pressed the tip of the blade to the Dark Mark burned on her arm but she didn't offer any answer.

"I'll give you another chance. Do you have anything you want to tell me?"

"Not a chance."

Hermione pressed the tip of her knife into the tattooed skin. Bellatrix's scream pierced the room. She writhed, nearly lifting the chair off the floor.

"Where is the cup?" Hermione demanded over the sound of the other woman's panting.

Severus spoke up from his side of the room. "It's there." He pushed himself off from the wall, blinking a few times.

Bellatrix's eyes snapped to him. "You were in my mind!" she shrieked.

Severus smiled darkly and quoted one of his least favorite people. "Constant vigilance." He ignored her in favor of turning to Hermione. "Now we just need to find a way to get it."

Neville held out his hand for Hermione's knife. Now that they had what the needed, he could get what he wanted.

She handed it over. "Nothing we can't heal for now. We might still need her."

He nodded. "No worries. I can heal a lot." He grinned at Bellatrix.

Now it was time for some research.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: A lot of you expressed concern that Neville and Hermione (but mostly Neville) would be willing to torture anyone. I hear your thoughts and I appreciate them. However, I didn't claim to keep them canon, so… I hope that you enjoy anyway! :)**

 **Chapter 15**

Polyjuice was out. Imperius was out. Facial transfiguration was out. Illusion was out. The Thief's Downfall would wipe away _everything_. One of them would be able to hide under the cloak, they thought, but the other would have to play Bellatrix, one way or another. But how? And they would need to do it soon. Very soon. People were bound to notice the witch's disappearance and then there would be suspicion when she showed up at Gringotts of all places.

The six of them were spread across the library, each of them hunched over a book or, in Hermione's case, a stack of books. She was getting frustrated by their lack of progress and Ron was distracting her by throwing dirty looks at Neville every few minutes. The boy had come down from their prison cell after a half hour alone with Bellatrix and, while the room was warded against sound, he had a small spatter of blood just to the left of his nose and it was at this that Ron was glaring. War hardened people and Neville was no exception. He was very changed from the timid boy that had lost his toad aboard the Hogwarts Express. Hermione was sorry that she'd had to come down and research rather than staying upstairs, so she supposed that she was changed, too.

She snapped her book shut. "For fuck's sake, Ronald, we get it. You disapprove. Too bad. Put on your big boy shorts and get over it because it's done. We've got her. Now we need to get her horcrux and for that I need you to do something useful and focus on your book. So quit glaring at Neville."

He shifted his glare to her. "You're as bad as they are."

"Yeah, maybe we are," she agreed, and she saw the surprise flick across his face, "but that is not relevant to your research. Get to it."

She felt Severus's hand tighten on her knee and she glanced at his impassive face, still staring down at his book.

"I think I have it!" Ginny whooped from the other side of the room.

Hermione was on her feet in an instant, her own book forgotten as she snatched Ginny's from her hand. Her eyes raced across the page, mind working furiously. This… could actually work. Wordlessly she crossed the room and handed the book to Severus, who read the page just as quickly. He frowned and she felt her heart sink. There was something wrong with it.

"It will be difficult to get her into the correct position," he said when he finally looked up.

She blinked. "But do you think it will work?"

He bowed his head, looking back at the book. "I think it will work."

oOo

"Well, well, looks who's back," the witch croaked. She sounded like she had been screaming.

 _Good_ , Hermione thought viciously. She crinkled her nose at the sight of her. Bellatrix Lestrange was a bloodied mess. True to his word, Neville had left no physical marks on her but he had certainly made no effort to clean her up. Hermione leveled her wand at the captive. "I am not climbing into her like _that_ ," she declared, and proceeded to spell the dried blood away.

Neville loosed the ropes tying the woman down. "Up," he instructed sharply, keeping his wand trained on her.

She leaned back in her chair, eyeing the young man. "I think not."

Severus smiled darkly and Hermione shivered at the sight. "You'll want to do what he says," he said lazily. "I believe that you possess enough intelligence to realize that we mean business."

"Fuck you, Snape," she spat, and crossed her legs.

" _Levicorpus_ ," Neville growled, and her body tipped wildly, lifting into the air by the ankles. She screeched as her robes tipped down over her face and Hermione found herself very grateful that Lestrange had elected to don pants beneath her robes. She wasn't quite thrilled by the thought of being presented with a view of an insane woman's crotch. He levitated the woman toward an empty section of floor and dropped her unceremoniously, without a word. She scrambled to her feet but he was waiting with a body bind curse. She froze, teetered, and toppled over onto the floor.

Hermione went to work drawing a heptagram on the floor in chalk. "Seven-sided star," she muttered to herself. "How dramatic." But seven was a powerful magical number and so she drew the star. Straightening up after she finished, she stepped into the figure. Neville and Severus hefted Bellatrix's stiff body and moved her into the circle with her back against Hermione's. Hermione looped her arms through the other woman's and pulled her weight against her back. The two wizards stepped away and Hermione staggered under the full weight of the other woman.

"Quickly," she wheezed. She moved her feet forward and braced herself against Bellatrix's back. The body bind came from Severus and she felt herself freeze in position.

Hermione's mind was whirling too wildly to even hear the incantation that the two of them chanted in turns. The spell required two outside parties to recite the incantation – one to represent each participant. She did, however, take note of the blinding flash of light and the intense ripping sensation deep in her skull. Had she not been frozen, she would have screamed. The tearing continued for what felt like minutes, though it was probably less than a second, then it stopped with a sudden _thwack_ that she could almost describe as wet and it was done.

She was looking at a different side of the room than she had been just a moment before. There was total silence in the room. She was still unable to move. She wanted to look down at herself – see if it had worked. Severus stepped into her view and pressed his wand to her throat. She presumed that Neville had done the same to the other woman. It was part of the plan, after all. The body bind was released suddenly and she dropped to the floor.

Wild black curls hung in her face and she felt her stomach drop. It _worked_. She moved slowly back to sit on her haunches and brought her hands up to her face. As she felt at her new features, a grin broke out across her face. "So then, Severus, let's do this."

He blanched slightly at her addressing him with that voice and that face but lowered his wand, offering her his hand. She took it and he pulled her up from the floor. Bellatrix, in her new body, was still on the floor staring incredulously at her own hands.

"Don't get too used to it," Hermione sneered down at her body. "And I swear to god, if you damage it in any way, I will take it out of your own hide." She held out her hand to Severus, who handed her the last wand on Earth that she wanted. Twelve and three-quarter inches, walnut, with a dragon heartstring for a core. The wand of Bellatrix Lestrange. She took it, rolling it between her fingers. "Let's go rob a bank, shall we?"

oOo

Harry and Ginny were waiting for them outside the room. Ron was off elsewhere, pretending that nothing was happening. The pair were unable to suppress the shiver of fear that ran through them when the body of Bellatrix Lestrange emerged from the room, hand resting on Severus Snape's arm. The ward on the door recognized the body, not the mind possessing it. Severus had, of course, rewired the thing to ward against Hermione's body as well.

"Right," Hermione said in Bellatrix's voice after they were through, "Harry, Severus is going to wear the cloak and go with me. Neville, you're in charge of her while we're gone. Please don't torture my body too much and don't let Ronald do anything idiotic." The cloak was handed over. Hermione was sure that James Potter and Sirius Black were crying somewhere far up above at the sight.

"Don't you do anything idiotic either," Harry added.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Harry, they're breaking into a bank and stealing things from goblins. Of course they aren't doing anything idiotic."


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

Hermione held her head high as she strode into Gringotts. While she couldn't see him, ensconced as he was beneath Harry's invisibility cloak, she could feel the presence of her wizard behind her. His silent guardianship gave her confidence and she stalked across the great marble adorned hall toward the nearest counter.

"Take me to my vault, goblin," she instructed sharply. It was bizarre to hear herself speaking in the voice of a demon and she had to fight the urge to look around for the source.

The goblin looked up slowly, taking his sweet time, and Hermione tapped her foot impatiently. She allowed an expression of supreme displeasure sneak across her face. "Madam Lestrange, of course. Follow me."

Haughtily, she followed behind the goblin as she was bid. He led them through the large door in the wall behind him and tottered into an old – and for all appearances, rickety – cart on a track. He waited for his passenger to do the same. Hermione hesitated, glaring at the tiny contraption, giving Severus a moment to approach the cart as well. Then, as discussed, they clambered inside as one. She was reasonably sure that the goblin would have noticed the transport rocking as an invisible person climbed inside. As it was, she was sure to do her part with much flare in order to keep the little creature's attention on her – just in case.

Her stomach flipped as the cart jolted forward with no warning whatsoever, and she felt a momentary panic, wondering if Severus had made it inside with her. As inconspicuously as possible, she reached a hand behind her – though she needn't have bothered. The goblin was turned away from them, his eyes focused on the path they were traveling. She let out a tiny sigh of relief as her hand brushed his momentarily before he withdrew. The cart twisted and turned violently and without relent as they traveled deep into the bowels of the bank. She would have loved to close her eyes and take deep breaths until the whole ordeal had ended, but her anxiety about the Thief's Downfall prevented her from doing so. Ahead, she could see the waterfall approaching far more rapidly than she would have liked. Her heart kicked into high gear and she felt herself start to sweat. It was practically on top of them now. She kept her eyes wide open as they entered below it.

And came to a halt so violent that they were all nearly thrown from the flimsy vehicle.

Immediately, she screeched in the voice of Bellatrix Lestrange, "What is the meaning of this?"

Slowly, the goblin's bald, pointed head swiveled slowly toward her. A wicked smile grew on his lips, exposing dirty, pointed teeth. "It would seem, Madam Lestrange, that –"

The creature was cut off as the cart lurched forward once again. A look of confusion crossed over his face, a frown cutting into his small face. He said nothing more as he turned forward again, his back to them. Hermione desperately wanted to turn and converse with their hidden passenger but knew that would have to wait.

It took not much longer before the wretched vehicle came to an abrupt stop once again, this time in front of a hall, a series of vaults stretching before them.

"Come, Madam Lestrange," the goblin said rigidly as he climbed from the cart, "it is a walk from here, as you well know."

She made no reply as she clambered from within and onto the rough stone floor instead. Merlin, it was good to have her feet on solid ground. Resisting the urge to cast her eyes around her, she instead strode confidently behind the goblin toward what was, presumably, the Lestrange vault. The goblin made no attempt at conversation and Hermione certainly wasn't going to make an effort to impersonate more of Lestrange than she had to. Instead, she listened to the goblin's and her own footsteps ringing off the stone and marveled at Severus for having thought of _everything_. He had placed a silencing charm on his boots to prevent a third pair of footsteps from alerting the goblin to their deception.

Frankly, Hermione had been both pleased and a bit surprised that the downfall had not dumped them all due to the invisibility cloak. They hadn't been entirely certain that it wouldn't. Hermione's theory was that the powerful magic of a hallow was enough to protect them, though Severus had been skeptical. She didn't think he really believed in the hallows, and that was just fine. She was only halfway sure that she believed in them herself. But if anything she had ever encountered in the wizarding world was one, it was that cloak. She did wonder why they had paused, however. The goblin had been sure that something was amiss, she was positive of it. And he had been pleased. Little bastard. Of course, he didn't know that it wasn't the real Madam Lestrange with whom he was dealing. Had it have been, he likely would have been cursed for his insolence already. She wondered if the magic had sensed that something was just not quite right but had been unable to detect exactly what it was. Or perhaps it had known exactly what was amiss and had simply been unable to correct it. Whatever the reason, they had not been dumped on their arses on the floor of the bank and both of their protections were still intact. She decided to be grateful for miracles and leave it at that. Perhaps she would pick Severus's brain about it tonight when they were curled safely in bed together. Once she was _out_ of this atrocious skin.

She was pulled from her reverie by the sound of movement from ahead and she looked up from the grey stone floor. Instantly she stopped in her tracks. There was a fucking _dragon_ down here. The goblin proceeded forward and reached for a small metal device in a wooden crate at his feet. He began to shake the thing like a muggle cowbell and the dragon reared back as though it had been burned. Hermione realized what he was doing and moved to cross behind him as the massive animal huddled against the far wall in fear. She refused to stop now to think why it would be doing what it was doing – that was for later reflection. Right now, she had a task at hand.

Once she had crossed safely, the goblin placed the noisemaker on their current side of the dragon and stepped into the confines of the small hallway behind her. Stepping up to a nearby door, he placed his palm flat against its surface. Hermione watched in awe as the door unlocked with an intricate pattern of sliding locks and swung outward with a deep groan. The goblin stepped aside and allowed her entrance to what was supposedly her vault.

She was flabbergasted by the sheer amount of extravagance housed within. Shimmering cups of every shape, size, and color perched on various surfaces. Golden plates adorned with gems hung from the walls. Several chests encrusted with jewels were placed throughout the room, and Hermione had no doubt that they would be filled with more coins than she could imagine.

"It's to your left on that shelf, top ledge," Severus breathed into her ear.

She looked to where he indicated and, surely enough, she caught sight of a silver cup perched on the top level of a shelf adorned with treasures of all sorts. If she squinted her eyes at it, she could just make out the engraving of the house of Hufflepuff on the front of the thing.

"How do I get it?" she murmured. He had warned her that it was inadvisable to touch anything in vault except what they had come for. Many of the old families placed enchantments on their treasures, and he expected that the Lestrange family had done a particularly nasty job of it.

" _Accio Hufflepuff's cup_ ," he tried lightly. There was no result excepting a strong stinging hex felt in his wand hand for his trouble.

" _Accio Hufflepuff's cup_ ," she repeated. The object in question flew into her hands. She stared down at it. She supposed that she shouldn't be too surprised. She _was_ a Lestrange today, after all.

And then fire licked at her left arm and she let her prize clatter to the floor, the noise echoing loudly as she clutched at her arm. She hissed between her teeth, pushing up the sleeve of her robes and letting them both get a glimpse at what was paining her. The Dark Mark stood out sharply against her skin, the snake swimming through the orifices of the tattooed skull. Bellatrix Lestrange was being summoned by the Dark Lord _now_ of all times.

"Fuck," she muttered. She felt Severus move past her and retrieve the horcrux from the floor. The cup disappeared beneath the cloak. It was time to go.

She straightened up, stolidly ignoring the pain radiating down her arm, and strode from the room. She waited for the door to shut behind her with a _thud_ , then followed silently behind the goblin as he terrified the dragon back into its place against the wall. The walk back to the cart seemed to take far longer than it had before, trying as she was not to let her breath out in pants. What a truly _awful_ way to summon one's followers. She could feel Severus's invisible gaze on her. She kept her face impassive, though she was well aware that he was fully able to empathize with her pain, having felt it many times over himself.

They all boarded the dilapidated cart and this time Hermione did close her eyes. It was nearly over. Just a few more minutes and they could go _home_ and she could climb out of this _body_. Let Bellatrix reap the rewards of her loyalty. She could sit and stew in it for her sins. Thankfully, the cart actually slowed, if only a little, as they approached the end of the track and she was inexpressibly grateful to see the door leading out to the gleaming marble hall ahead.

She said nothing to the goblin as she whisked past him toward the door. Stepping out of the caverns, she breathed deeply of the fresh air.

"Bellatrix," a loud voice greeted her, "how lovely to see you."

Her eyes snapped across the room, locking onto a burly man leaning onto the polished counter of an irritable-looking goblin. _Dolohov_. She nodded curtly. "And you," she answered. "Sadly, I must go. A certain someone calls." She received a knowing look.

"Give him my best," he returned, before beginning to turn back to his business.

It all happened almost in slow motion – and yet she was powerless to stop it. A goblin led a young, dark-haired man toward the vaults. She saw the man lose his footing on the slick floor. He toppled, then, miraculously, hit a solid object directly in his path. The cloak slid from around Severus's shoulders and he was pushed to the floor. The cup clattered to the floor toward her, landing at her feet.

Antonin Dolohov's face twisted instantly and his wand was in his hand.

"Go!" Severus roared.

She snatched the cup, watching with wide eyes as her worst nightmare descended on him, already casting. Rather than defend himself, Severus blasted her backwards away from him. Scrambling to her feet and glancing down at the valuable item – the piece of Voldemort's soul – that she clutched in her hands, she turned and ran from the bank, apparating the instant she was clear of the wards.

 **A/N: Ohhhh, a cliffhanger. Reviews are wonderful things.**


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

Hermione landed neatly on the steps of number twelve Grimmauld Place, despite the horror running through her veins. _She had left him_. She clutched the cup to her chest and stepped into the old house. Immediately, Neville's head popped out of the library doorway. His body followed. Harry and Ginny tumbled into the hall after him.

"Where's Snape?" Harry asked first.

Hermione blinked rapidly, holding back tears. "He told me to go. Dolohov…"

"You abandoned him?" Neville cut in.

She cringed, guilt and fear threatening to overwhelm her. "I had to," she whispered. Clearing her throat, she held out the cup and said, louder, "When it comes down to the choice of saving my lover or saving the world, did I really have a choice? He'll get out. He'll come back. He'll be home by dark."

Harry moved forward and took the horcrux from her, nodding slowly. "I'm sure he'll be okay. He's Severus Snape."

She nodded in response. "Will someone help Neville get me out of this body?" The arm of Bellatrix Lestrange still burned.

oOo

Bellatrix was livid as they stepped into the room that served as her prison cell. Hermione tried not to focus too hard on that particular expression on her own face.

"Oh, you're back, are you?" she snarled in Hermione's voice. "Give me back my body, Mudblood. You've defiled it enough with your presence. Give it back!"

"You know the drill," Neville said sharply. Without Severus in the room, Hermione felt distinctly less safe unchaining the mad woman, but it had to be done. She handed Bellatrix's wand to Ginny, who tucked it into her pocket.

"Where's Snape?" Bellatrix asked snidely. When her question was ignored, she threw back her head and cackled. Hermione suppressed a shudder at her body making such a sound. Neville pulled the woman from her chair and she straightened cooperatively. Seemingly, she genuinely wished for her body back. "Got himself caught? Killed maybe? Or maybe he just left you sorry lot."

Hermione only restrained herself from hitting the woman across the face by remembering that she'd only be doing her own body damage by doing so. Instead she stomped into the seven-pointed star still chalked onto the floor from that morning and waited for her body bind. Bellatrix sidled into place behind her, touching their backs as was required for the enchantment.

"Don't worry, Mudblood, I'm sure you'll get his pieces back."

She tensed and felt her body go stiff as they prepared to switch back. The bitch had better hope that he managed to escape. Already, she was not leaning toward leniency with Bellatrix, and it would do the woman no favors if Hermione's mood was black.

This time Harry took Severus's place in the ritual. Again, Hermione found herself too distracted to pay attention to the wording. They had successfully robbed Gringotts, the most secure location in magical Britain. They had retrieved a piece of the soul of Tom Riddle and they were one step closer to defeating the man for good. But Hermione was panicking. She had left Severus there to fight on his own. She was well aware that he was a strong and capable wizard. However, there was only so much luck that he was bound to get. What if it ran out this time?

She was once again pounded by the ripping of her mind from its housing and would have gasped, had she been able. It wasn't any less painful the second time around. After a moment she felt herself land in her own head and she was staring at the opposite wall. Neville wasn't as quick as Severus had been to let the body bind drop. He stepped into her view slowly and pressed his wand to her throat. From this position, she could see exactly how imposing the chubby little boy had become. He canceled the bind but did not drop his wand.

"How did we meet?" he demanded.

She met his gaze evenly. "On the Hogwarts Express before first year. I helped you find Trevor."

"Where was he?"

"Beneath the trolley, enjoying a jelly-filled tart."

He let his wand hand fall to his side.

She knew the moment that Bellatrix's own body bind was released. The woman shrieked and Hermione whirled around to find her clutching at her arm.

"How long has this been going on?" she hissed.

"Long enough." Harry and Neville grabbed an arm each and pushed the Death Eater roughly into her chair, retying the ropes around her wrists, ankle, and middle.

She locked her gaze with Hermione's, dark eyes glittering. "He'll know I'm missing."

Hermione smiled. "I'm sure that he will. But he'll never find you. Not until I let him." She held out her hand to Ginny, who hesitated before placing Bellatrix's wand into it. She held the stick of walnut delicately, an end in one hand. Then she snapped it in half.

Bellatrix's screams of rage rang in her ears as she exited the cell behind Harry and Ginny, accompanied by Neville.

oOo

Severus watched her run for the door with a feeling of relief. Dolohov was closing in on him. He could feel the blood oozing from the slicing hex he had taken to the thigh. He staggered to his feet, wand in hand. Gringotts patrons were noticing the commotion and ducking for cover behind counters or running for the door. The goblins seemed not to care much about the scuffle breaking out in the lobby, as several of them continued counting out galleons as though nothing were happening.

He dodged the jet of purple that Dolohov heaved his way and sent his own slicing hex at the man's ankles. The Death Eater leaped and the hex sailed beneath him, colliding with a low table instead. The legs on the right side of the table separated, sending papers whirling into the air as the table fell crookedly. Before his feet had touched back down, Dolohov threw a burning hex. Severus was just a moment too slow to dodge and the curse nicked the side of his arm. He swore and sent a muttered " _Crucio_ ," at the other man. Dolohov went down, landing solidly on his back as his scream rent the air. Severus stepped backwards away from him.

The double doors of the bank burst open, echoing loudly through the hall. Severus looked up, unsure whether or not he hoped to see aurors – they likely wouldn't be pleased to see him. Instead, Thorfinn Rowle's enormous bulk was barreling toward him.

He shot off a blasting hex toward the giant of a man, sending him careening into the far wall. Dolohov was still panting on the floor. He dove toward the door while both were incapacitated. He couldn't apparate out of there until he reached the edge of the wards. Green light whizzed past on his left, only barely missing him.

"No!" Rowle howled. "The Dark Lord wants him alive!"

Severus heard Dolohov's growl in return and he sent a nonverbal _bombarda_ over his shoulder. The floor shook slightly at the force of the explosion. He didn't stop to examine the damage but he heard screaming from the civilians trapped inside. He passed through the doors into the open air. The wards ended at the bottom of the stairs. He leaped, attempting to traverse them all in a single go, and the world went black before he landed.

oOo

In front of the large window overlooking the street below, Hermione kept a watchful eye on the front step. It was getting dark. There had been no sign of him.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

It was full dark out now. Hermione was exhausted, mentally and physically, but she was sick with worry and couldn't possibly bring herself to sleep. It was her fault he wasn't here. She should have stayed with him and fought the bastard. But she had delivered the horcrux, she reassured herself. It was their top priority for the mission. But _still_. It seemed that the other four members of their little group had similar thoughts – save for Ronald, who seemed to be doing his very best not to crow with joy – and they were all grouped in the library in front of the fire. Waiting for news, it seemed. None was very inclined to speak.

It would appear that Severus had risen a mark or two in Neville's eyes after their collusion on the Lestrange project and, oddly, he seemed the most upset – aside from Hermione herself – that he had been left behind. He hadn't spoken two words to Hermione since they had left Bellatrix's room.

"I'm sorry," she finally said lowly to the room at large. "I should have stayed with him."

Ginny shook her head. "No. He told you to go and you followed orders. You got us one step closer to taking down You-Know-Who."

"We left you," Harry answered, his tone reticent. "Hermione, we left you behind."

Ah. So that's what this was about. She should have known that they weren't all that concerned for Severus. Almost no one here could even tolerate him. "You all did what you needed to do then," she said firmly. "There was no way we could have won that fight. If you'd stayed and tried, I probably would have been killed. We probably all would have." She paused. "Severus's and your quick action probably saved my life."

Harry nodded but he still looked disturbed.

"If we hadn't left you, then we wouldn't have to deal with _Snape_ ," Ron cut in snidely.

She growled. "He is helping us, Ronald. And he has the means to destroy the horcruxes. So do shut your face."

A silvery white figure burst through the wall of the library, effectively distracting them from the beginning of their argument, its shape flying around the confines of library before perching in front of Hermione. The bird patronus was not particularly large but it possessed wickedly sharp claws and its beak certainly appeared to mean business. A sparrow hawk, Hermione identified. Its mouth opened and she cringed back at the voice that issued forth.

"I bring a message from the Dark Lord to the Mudblood Granger," came the voice of Lucius Malfoy. In the background, she could hear a high cold voice rumbling but she could not make out its words.

"He is aware that you are in possession of one of the Dark Lord's followers and wishes you to know that he, too, is in possession of something of yours." She heard the voice behind in the recording shout out a harsh " _Crucio_ ," and a deep scream rang out. _Severus_.

"He is alive. For now."

The bird closed its mouth and glanced coldly at each of them in turn before taking flight and disappearing through the wall through which he had first appeared. All eyes turned to Hermione, who stood abruptly from the couch and headed for the door. Neville had an inkling of where she was going and followed.

oOo

Deep in the bowels of Malfoy Manor, Severus had finally been thrown into a dank cell. His entire body ached and he wished that he was able to wash the blood off himself. For his reward, Dolohov had been given freedom to play with his enemy with the condition that he was not permitted to kill him. It seemed that Voldemort wanted to draw out his suffering. Undoubtedly, Voldemort also wanted him to talk. Unluckily for the Dark Lord, no amount of torture would convince him to spill their secrets. Severus was too used to such treatment.

He sat quietly on the floor of his cell. The darkness embraced him from all sides but he knew he would not be getting any sleep tonight. At least he knew that Hermione was safe. She had escaped. She was fine. He had no illusions about his situation. Excepting a miracle, this was where he would die. He regretted that their time had been so short but he was grateful that he had gotten the time at all.

He closed his eyes, allowing his head to fall against the stone wall at his back. The first night that he had found himself in the library of Grimmauld Place, he would never have guessed where it all would lead.

 _Severus had had a hell of a night. The Dark Lord had been in an exceptionally good mood, and Severus would be hard pressed to say that such a mood was better to face than the Dark Lord in an exceptionally foul one. The man had wished to bestow a reward upon his most loyal and so Severus had found himself ensconced in a hall among some of the most insane, bloodthirsty people alive with something like thirty young muggle men and women._

 _The Dark Lord had set no restrictions. It was… bloody. The screams and the laughter still echoed in his head now, hours later. In the darkness of his bedroom, he could see the faces of his own victims. He could hear them pleading. He wished that he could have saved at least_ one _. The voices grew louder, the screaming piercing his mind, deafening him. He sat up on his bed, head in his hands. He needed company tonight. Clearly, he was getting no sleep with the taint of the evening still dripping from him like blood from the wounds he had inflicted._

 _The thought of travelling to Hogwarts was abhorrent. Minerva would want an explanation. She would want to_ talk about it _. He needed somewhere else. The Burrow was, for similar reasons, also off the list. Malfoy Manor was out of the question. He had no desire to spend an evening looking Lucius in the face. Severus had caught a few glimpses of him throughout the revel and he did not think that he could stand to see any more of him tonight. He needed time for the memories to fade. He suspected that his friend would, too. There was always Grimmauld Place. He knew that it was currently inhabited by the Golden Trio and their sidekicks but he doubted that any of them would have the balls to confront him about why he was there. Tonight, frankly, he didn't much care who he was with as long as they were_ silent _._

 _He dressed quickly and threw on his travelling cloak, grabbing a book from his bedside table. Without pausing to think too much about what he was doing, he apparated to the front step of the old townhome. He hesitated briefly, wondering if he should have asked permission to be there, but in the end, it was still the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, of which he was still a member. He let himself in._

 _Granger was sitting in an armchair beside the fire in the library. There was no one else present. The fire crackled brightly in the hearth, beckoning him inside. He took a deep breath and answered its call. Refusing to so much as glance at Granger as he crossed the room, he dropped into the lounger directly across the from her. It was as comfortable as it looked, cushioning his tired body wonderfully, and he could feel the warmth of the fire deep in his chilled bones. He felt her eyes on him but, thankfully, the girl said nothing as he cracked open his book._

 _Though they exchanged no words that night, Severus knew that he had made the right choice. Just her quiet company settled his whirling thoughts. After a few short hours, she silently rose from her chair and left. He raised his eyes at last to the spot she had inhabited. He supposed there wasn't much reason left to remain, so he hiked himself out of the cozy armchair and threw a handful of floo powder onto the fire._

 _He slept better that night than he had in a very long time, with the demons in his head if not silenced, then at least whispering rather than shouting at him. Perhaps he should make this a nightly ritual._

He neither heard nor saw a change, but he felt it in the air. "Lucius," he greeted calmly. The tensely coiled muscles in his battered body belied the calmness of his voice. From the darkness, Severus made out the pale man as he stepped up to the bars of his cell. He made no move to get up from the stone floor, waiting instead to see what Lucius would do. Perhaps his old friend had come to mock him. Maybe he would give him the honor of a quick death. He daren't allow himself to hope that it was anything else.

"Fuck, Severus, this is quite the situation you've got yourself into now," the blonde said dryly. "You always did like the BDSM, didn't you?"

Severus barked a laugh. "Only for you. Does this excite you, Lucy?" Hope flooded through him against his will. It was certainly a promising start to the exchange.

Lucius snorted, keys jangling in his hand. "Beyond words." The lock of the cell clicked open and Lucius stepped into the cell. "I can't get your wand but I'm sure you'll find a way to manage without."

Neither acknowledged the danger that the man was putting himself and his family into. The Dark Lord was mad but he was not stupid. Severus staggered to his feet, his body having had hours to stiffen. He thought he felt at least two lacerations on his back begin to ooze again. "You could come with me, you know."

"And have to compete for your affection?" He scoffed. "Granger wouldn't stand a chance."

Severus crossed the small space and grasped his old friend by the shoulder. "Thank you," he said, his voice deep with sincerity.

"Don't fucking waste it," Lucius growled back. The unspoken hung heavily in the air. _Set us free_.

oOo

The manor had been blessedly quiet as Severus crept toward the door. Now, hurrying across the lawn, he prayed that he could just make it a little further. The gate was just ahead. The bloody peacocks had, thankfully, only blinked at him blearily before resuming their slumber. The gate opened under his hands and he slid through the wards with a sigh of relief.

He stifled a shout as he was greeted with one of the very last scenes that he had expected. Just outside the gates, speared upon what appeared to be a crudely sharpened stick, was the head of Bellatrix Lestrange. At the bottom of the display lay what he could only assume was her arm, with the words GIVE HIM BACK carved over what had once been the Dark Mark.

With a grimace of disgust but a feeling of pride, he apparated away.

 **A/N: Before you say it, I am well aware that many of you are going to be upset by that last bit there. You know, Lestrange's head on a pike and all that. I know. But I liked it and my non-canon OoC Hermione would do it so there. I hope that you all enjoyed and I look forward to hearing your thoughts!**


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

Severus slipped inside the front door of headquarters quietly. He had had no idea what to expect but a roaring fight had certainly not made the list. Gingerly, he hauled himself toward the sound of the argument in the kitchen.

"-make things worse!" That was Potter. "At least we had leverage before!"

He stepped into the doorway, leaning heavily against the sill. Three pairs of eyes snapped to him. Hermione, with her back to him, did not notice and continued on with her argument, arms crossed over her chest. Beside her, Neville nodded along.

"Leverage, my ass. Do you really think that the Dark Lord gives a flying fuck about Bellatrix Lestrange personally? I sent a message, Harry."

"It was a bit dramatic, maybe, but she's right," he cut in. Hermione whirled, catching sight of him. She froze, staring at him with wide eyes. He knew he looked a mess, smeared as he was with his own blood. At least he wasn't leaving puddles on the floor this time. "While your little demonstration would never have worked, he also would never have let me live, with or without Lestrange."

Hermione crossed the room quickly, pausing as she reached him. "How bad?"

He sighed. "Not the worst you've seen but… bad enough."

Rather than throw her arms around him like she would have liked, instead she put a hand on either of his cheeks and, standing up on her toes, pressed a kiss to his lips. "I'm sorry," she mumbled against him.

Pulling away, he shook his head. Now wasn't the time to talk about it.

"How did you get away?" Neville interrupted.

Hermione pulled him toward a chair, into which he dropped gratefully. He winced as his back hit the wood and gingerly sat forward instead. "Lucius is an old friend and, it would seem, not as loyal a follower as he once was."

"He let you go? Just like that?" The Weasley boy sounded suspicious and Severus supposed that he could understand why he would be. It certainly sounded too good to be true.

He nodded. Hermione was pulling at the buttons on his shirt and, much as he wanted to protest the current company, he really didn't want to wait to feel her cool healing spells wash over him. "Lucius has been drifting for some time. He opened the door of my cell tonight at great risk to himself and his family." To Hermione, who was nearly finished with his buttons, he murmured, "My back took the worst."

He let her push it from his shoulders and obligingly twisted in his chair, grimacing as the wounds pulled. He tried to ignore the eyes of Potter, Weasleys, and a Longbottom but he couldn't block out their nearly collective intake of breath as they all caught sight of what he was sure was a mess of his back. Dolohov had enjoyed himself immensely. Of all things, a muggle whip had made an appearance.

Hermione sighed. "I can't see organs this time, so well done," she said. An attempt to keep things light.

"I wasn't allowed to die tonight." He could practically feel the questions the others were trying not to ask. Well too damn bad. Let them wonder. They were already getting enough of him tonight. He sighed in relief as she began to close him up, some of the pain leaching away.

"We got a patronus from him earlier today," Ginny said. At Severus's confused look, she clarified, "Lucius Malfoy."

He blinked twice. Then a slow smile spread over his face. "Well, then, there you have it. No true Death Eater is capable of producing a patronus. It is said to be among the lightest spells that can be cast, as you well know. No one truly steeped in darkness can call one up."

Ronald, of course, had to put in his two cents. "Can you produce one then?"

Severus set the boy with a chilling stare, though it was ruined by his wince as Hermione poked at a particularly painful spot on his back. "Obviously."

"So, let's see it."

Severus scowled. Hermione really did not need to know. Harry Potter _really_ did not need to know. But nevertheless. "I am not in possession of my wand. Oddly enough, the Dark Lord did not desire that I should fight back."

"Dear Malfoy didn't give it back, did he?" the ginger sneered.

"Did Lucius go and politely request my wand from Antonin Dolohov so that he might return it to my person? No, he did not. He, instead, trusted that I am capable of enough wandless magic to get myself out of fair number of situations. The trust was well-placed." He paused. It was a stupid idea. It may actually help things in the house. Obviously, some of them still did not trust him. But then, he may be effectively shooting himself in the face with this one. "Hermione, may I borrow your wand for a moment?" His wand had worked well for her. Perhaps hers would do the same for him.

The stick of vine wood felt vaguely wrong in his hand, but he had felt worse over the years. He flicked it experimentally toward a chair at the far end of the table and was pleased when it transfigured into a bookshelf – admittedly not in the black that he had asked for, but a bookshelf nonetheless, even if it was still the light tan color of the original chair.

 _"You're what I want. And if you recall, you owe me your life too, so that makes us even." She sighed and continued more calmly, "I don't want to go back to 'Miss Granger' and 'Professor'. Severus, I've seen you at your softest and I've seen you at your darkest and I've seen you bleeding out onto the floor. I woke up warm and safe in your arms this morning and I was happy. I swear to Merlin, if you make me go back to calling you 'sir' and pretending that none of that ever happened, I will lose my mind." She paused and moved closer to him. Her hands slid up his chest and she smiled when his went instinctively to her hips. "I don't want to lose you."_

 _She lifted a hand to his face, fingertips trailing across his skin. "I think I need you, Severus."_

" _Expecto patronum_ ," he commanded firmly. A large silver shape burst from the end of the borrowed wand and bounded around the room. Looking back, he would be amazed that he had managed to keep his mouth from dropping open in shock. The shape that he had called forth was _not_ a doe. It was… Oh, Merlin… It was a lion of all things. Of bloody course it was.

Ginny snorted. "Really?"

Severus sighed and dropped his head into one hand, scrubbing at his forehead. "It would seem so." He handed Hermione's wand back to her and she pushed him back into the chair so that she could go to work on his front. He refused to show her the damage to his legs until they were safely in their room. Merlin, how he longed for the bed. "So you see, Weasley, I really am at least somewhat on your side."

Ron mumbled something unintelligible in reply but he was too exhausted to pursue it.

"Hermione," he said lowly, "I don't suppose this could be continued upstairs? I am ready to drop."

She nodded distractedly. "Of course. Let me just," he felt one of the larger wounds knit back together, the cold fingers of the magic working their way up its length. "There, now at least you won't bleed all up the staircase."

He snorted softly. "The rest of me can be attended to _elsewhere_." He glared at the three boys and the young woman who were still ogling him. Bracing himself, he stood from the chair, refusing the release the groan that wanted to escape. Hermione wrapped an arm around his waist and, while trying very hard to pretend that she was not, helped him from the room and up the stairs.


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: Since some of you complained about trigger warnings in the last few chapters, here you go. Descriptions of gore follow.**

 **Chapter 20**

As soon as they made it upstairs to the bedroom, Hermione had him stripped down and began healing his less accessible wounds.

"Thank Merlin for you," he murmured as the fire in his legs began to die.

She ignored his comment, turning her back on him and wrapping her arms around herself. "Severus, I'm so sorry." He was surely right that it wasn't the worst shape that she had seen him in, but it had certainly been bad. They had to have dosed him with blood replenisher at some point during the night because the sheer number of marks, lacerations, and burns on him was staggering.

He sighed. "No, Hermione. You have nothing to apologize for." He stepped closer and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her back against him.

"I ran," she whispered. "I ran and I left you and you were tortured. Severus, I _heard_ you screaming in Malfoy's message."

"I wanted you to run. I wanted you to leave me behind. If I had died today," he paused, checking his watch, then corrected, "yesterday, you would still have been closer to defeating the Dark Lord and that is what I wanted. Don't you dare apologize for prioritizing every witch, wizard, and muggle in Britain over me."

"I didn't think that you would come back," she admitted, raising her hands to run her fingers along his arms. "Malfoy made it sound like you wouldn't. He's your friend?"

Severus nodded, his chin bumping the top of her head. "He was my best friend once. Draco is my godson."

"I left you," she repeated quietly.

He nodded again. "As you should have. But if you'd like to make it up to me, you can help me shower. I desperately need to sleep but I have no desire to get into your bed like _this_."

There was nothing sexual in the way that she helped him undress and step under the warm spray, even when she stripped naked and joined him. He was just too exhausted. He let her hands on his body, washing away the blood and sweat from his skin, soothe him. He leaned forward to let her shampoo his hair and, had he had more energy, he would likely have been embarrassed at the moan of pleasure that he couldn't hold back at her fingers massaging his scalp. He tried not to focus on the rusty color of the water rinsing from his hair. When she had finished with him, he leaned against the tiled shower wall and watched while she washed and conditioned her own hair, scrubbed her skin – being sure to wash his blood from beneath her fingernails – and turn off the spray of water.

She summoned a pair of his boxers from the set of drawers beside the door. Only after he assured her that he did not need help with them did she dress in a pair of her own panties and slide one of his clean shirts over her head. Severus groaned at the intoxicating softness of the mattress as his body sank into it, beckoning him to sleep. He only barely registered Hermione tucking herself against his side, though his body threw an arm around her without consulting him.

She felt his breaths evening out beside her within moments. He needed the rest. Sleep would not come so easily to her, however. She'd killed someone today in cold blood. She should feel something about that. She knew she should. Guilt? Remorse? Anything? Instead, she felt relief. That Bellatrix was unable to hurt anyone else. That Neville had been able to get his just dues for his parents. That Severus was _alive_ and _safe_ , snoring softly into her hair. She hadn't really been sure what she would do when she had stormed up to the cell after Malfoy's message. Part of her had only wanted information. She had hoped that Lestrange could tell her something that would help her to get Severus back. Obviously, the woman had done no such thing. Instead the witch had _cackled_ and thrown taunts. Hermione had had a bad day, to put it mildly. She had lost her temper. She hadn't meant to decapitate the woman. She really hadn't even been aware of doing it until she'd been panting, her fists tightly gripping the witch's wild black curls. There had been audible drips as the blood hit the floor. Clearly Neville knew her better than she knew herself because it had been he who had carved the message into Lestrange's arm. Hermione had seen him working at it, the knife maiming the Dark Mark, had heard her screaming, but had given no thought to what he was doing. She had still been focusing on information then. Leaving the head outside Malfoy Manor had been his idea. She had liked it far more than she thought that she should. Ron's expression when she'd walked downstairs with it had certainly been something. He'd spluttered and shouted and turned various shades of red before storming past her up the stairs, giving her as wide a berth as possible.

After Harry, Ron, and Hermione had fled from Bill and Fleur's wedding, they had stayed in a tent for a while. Breaking into the Ministry had been a horrific idea and a disaster and they had ended up living in a tent from it. They had the horcrux, but what next? Hermione hadn't the faintest idea where to begin looking for the next or even an idea of how to go about destroying the one that they had. Harry didn't either, but he hated that they weren't doing _something_. Tensions were high in such close quarters. Ron had left them. He'd gotten angry at their inactivity and their aimlessness – he'd been under the impression that at least one of them had any idea what the bloody hell they were doing – and it hadn't helped that he'd been wearing the locket that day and he'd walked out past the wards and he hadn't come back.

Harry had wanted to visit his parents in Godric's Hollow. She hadn't had any better ideas and, really, it was Christmas. If it was how Harry wanted to spend his holiday, she would go with him and let him do it. And then the fucking snake had attacked and they'd only barely escaped from Voldemort himself showing up and it had shaken her. Badly.

And then, _and then,_ a mysterious deer – really, a _deer_ of all things – had led Harry to a hole in a tree where he'd found the Sword of Gryffindor hiding out. He'd returned, excited about the possibility of destroying their first horcrux, with an apologetic Ronald in tow. Only it hadn't worked. By all reasoning, it should have worked. The sword had been soaked in basilisk venom. But then, that had been five years ago. It was likely all dried up by then. Either way, it hadn't done anything but bounce uselessly off the golden locket. The locket had looked _pleased_ with itself, if such an object could do so. She had cried. It had been her turn to wear the fucking thing.

They hadn't known about the Taboo. When the Snatchers showed up, they had only had a few seconds to prepare themselves. She had done the best she could at making Harry unrecognizable but, in the end it had been she who had been recognized. Fucking Rita Skeeter and her article in the _Prophet_. Hermione would squish the bitch next time she caught her. The torture had been horrific, and, thinking back on it now, she had no idea how Severus had survived for so long. _How_ did he continue to go back for more?

After their escape from Malfoy Manor they had decided that the tent needed to be retired. When they had arrived at Grimmauld Place – the only place that any of them could think of that might be secure – they had been expecting a fight with Snatchers at the very least, Death Eaters at the worst. Instead they found the Fidelius charms back in place. Neville and Ginny had taken up residence when McGonagall had told them to flee the school. She was doing all she could to hold down the fort, but there was only so much ground that she could hold against the Board of Governors, who were entirely under the thumb of the Dark Lord. Pick your battles, she tended to tell her most trusted students. They had told the pair everything they knew and so their trio became a quintet.

Then one night, Severus Snape had shown up calmly in the library to read a book beside the fire. The man who had killed Albus Dumbledore. On his orders. That bit had come from Minerva McGonagall herself, who had been the only person entrusted with the information before the headmaster's death. The woman had ached to see Severus so alone, so universally hated. She had known that the trio might need him. And so, against the wishes of Dumbledore's portrait, Hermione Granger had been let into the loop. She had toyed for weeks with the idea of telling the boys. Only after they had all begun to learn Occlumency did she inform them of the man's true loyalties. It had taken the word of Minerva, straight from her own mouth after verifying her identity, for them to believe it. But so it was.

She still didn't know why he'd shown up that night or the nights following. _Before_ , he had dodged the question or given her half-truths for answers. She hadn't asked _since_.

She snuggled closer against him, threading one of her legs through his. He grumbled in his sleep and turned, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her against him. She smiled. The man was surprisingly cuddly when he slept. It had been a pleasant surprise. He sighed and burrowed his face against her head, rubbing his nose in her hair. She had to bite back a laugh, afraid that she would wake him. She wondered how many more times she would have to patch him up. She hated having his blood on her hands.

Hermione had no idea what his plans had been for after the war. If they both survived, she hoped that they involved her.


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

Ginny took the stairs two at a time. Hermione and Snape hadn't emerged yet from their room – though after looking at him last night, she couldn't say that she was surprised by that – but they needed them. Now. She stopped short outside the room and pounded on the door. She was _not_ going to just burst in like Ron had done and get an eyeful.

A sleepy "What is it?" broke the silence and she took it as an invitation to enter. Poking her head through the doorframe, she was surprised to see Hermione glaring at her with a still-asleep Severus Snape wrapped around her.

"Sorry to wake you," Ginny said quietly. She didn't want to be the one to wake the man. Let Hermione do it. She was much less likely to be ripped to pieces for it. "We need him downstairs." She paused. "We have visitors and we aren't really… sure what to do about it."

That certainly woke Hermione up. She rolled and ran her fingers through Snape's hair. "Severus," she murmured. Ginny almost blushed, feeling like she was intruding. He stirred and, if she wasn't mistaken, the man actually purred at Hermione's attention. "Severus, they need you downstairs." Her eyes snapped back to the redhead in their room. "Who's here?"

She was sure she actually did blush when Snape cracked one eye to look at her. "The Malfoys are outside on the street."

He was upright in an instant, the blanket pooling in his lap. Ginny was both embarrassed and fascinated to learn that he was bare-chested. She couldn't help but stare at the scars mapping out his skin.

"We'll be right there," he rumbled in what was clearly a dismissal. "Don't do anything until I come down."

She nodded and turned on her heel, marching out of the room.

oOo

It was less than five minutes later when the pair made it downstairs. The rest of their group was gathered around the window in the library. Sure enough, there were three platinum blonde heads gathered around a lamp post. The three of them were whispering to each other, though Narcissa threw periodic glances toward the house. Hermione knew they couldn't see it, but it still made her edgy.

"Why are they here?" Ron hissed.

"Narcissa was a cousin of the Blacks who lived here. Likely, she already knew the general location of the house. She just can't see it," Severus answered calmly.

"But why are they here _now_?" Hermione could hear the accusation in his voice and bristled. Severus had not led them here. That was just a moronic thought.

She turned her eyes back to the street, looking them over. "They look awful." Malfoy Sr. had a black eye and a fat lip. Draco was clearly favoring one leg. Narcissa had no marks on her that Hermione could see, but she would have bet money that something was hiding somewhere.

"So what do we do?" Ginny asked.

Severus was the first to answer. "We need to find out why they're here. Obviously we can't do that in the street. As it is, they're going to draw attention just standing there."

"I am not giving them the location of Grimmauld Place," Harry snapped.

The older wizard rolled his eyes. "So blindfold them and bring them in with you. Hermione, Longbottom, you're with me."

He headed to the door.

Ron blocked his way. "You're going to bring more Death Eaters into the house?"

Severus drew himself up. "Yes. Lucius is not loyal to the Dark Lord. Narcissa never was. We'll put them in the cell until we're sure."

"And Draco?" Harry asked.

Severus sighed. "Fuck if I know. Thus, the cell." He pushed past the boys. Hermione and Neville followed, wands out and ready. They stopped on the front step, just before the edge of the wards. "Lucius, Narcissa, Draco," he called in greeting, his voice neutral.

"Severus," Lucius answered, his shoulders sagging slightly in relief. "We weren't sure if we had been seen."

"Why are you here?"

Lucius hesitated, glancing at his family. "We seek asylum. The Dark Lord, naturally, was not pleased with your escape from my dungeons." He paused again. "I know what you are, Severus. We can help you. We would like to help you."

Severus looked to Hermione first. She looked skeptical, but she nodded. The Longbottom boy shrugged and held out his wand in front of him.

"Your wands, if you please," Severus said mildly. The elder Malfoys dropped their wands without hesitation. Their son took a moment to think it over, but did the same. Hermione summoned them to her wordlessly and tucked them into a pocket of her robes. Severus stepped out of the edge of the wards. He had no wand, but he was alert and ready. Hermione stepped out next, followed closely by Neville.

The Malfoys were silent as they approached but she could read the uncertainty in their eyes. "Hands behind your backs," Severus instructed. They did as they were told and Hermione summoned ropes to bind them. Blindfolds were next. "You will be lead inside."

Hermione took hold of Narcissa while Neville grabbed onto Draco. Severus stationed himself at Lucius's side. Hermione was careful to murmur a warning about the steps to her captive and then the six of them were inside the wards and the front door opened, Ginny's anxious face greeting them. She suddenly saw the situation from the younger girl's perspective. Lucius Malfoy had been the catalyst to her possession at the age of eleven. Hermione could sense the concealed fear and anger in her. And this was a person who was coming to them as a would-be ally. She led Narcissa into the hall, leaving enough space for the others to follow.

With a wave of her wand, the blindfolds fell away. No need to keep the interior secret. After all, Narcissa had walked these halls as a child and it was likely that Lucius had, too. As she directed them toward the stairs, she called over her shoulder to Severus, "Maybe an unused bedroom would be best. Neville and I – er – didn't do much cleanup in the cell." Behind her, Neville laughed.

"They probably don't want to see that," he agreed.

Severus sighed. "Lead the way then."

Hermione wondered whether their display had been cleared away yet or if the family had had to walk past it to get here. She hoped in a perverse kind of way that it hadn't. They would know what she and the others were capable of.

She led them to an empty bedroom with two beds on the second landing. The Malfoys perched on the edge of one of the beds and Neville kept his wand trained on them. She handed her wand over to Severus, who began to cast the wards on the door. "Who wants to go first?" he asked, turning back to them when he had finished.

Lucius stiffened his spine and set his jaw. "I will go first." Severus nodded and pointed Hermione's wand at him. He flinched ever so slightly, and Hermione wondered what he thought they were going to do to him. Rather than the torture that he seemed to expect, Severus instead slipped into his mind.

He made an effort to be gentler than the Dark Lord, who tended to leave one with a feeling of having been violated with an ice pick, and Lucius did very little to hinder him. He rifled through memories, searching for one in particular. It was the night that he had first sat in the library here at Grimmauld Place. He wanted to see what Lucius had thought, had _felt_.

 _Lucius looked around the room, a mild expression on his face. Bellatrix had dragged some poor muggle into a corner and was cutting chunks out of him. Rowle was on top of a teenage girl, arse in the air. His stomach turned. He glanced down at the row of prisoners at his own feet. The girl was crying, her hair ragged and her shoulders thin. Her clothes were torn and she'd probably been raped already before tonight. Beside her, a man who appeared to be a relative of some kind to the girl glared at him. He sneered and the man bared his teeth. He supposed he should get started. He looked across the room and found Severus with his wand buried deep inside the belly of one of his victims. The man was screaming and clawing at the wound but his strength was fading and it wasn't long before he slumped to the floor._

 _He was probably expected to fuck the girl, but he didn't think he could stomach it tonight. He used a slicing hex wordlessly on the girl's relative – her brother, perhaps? – and the man gasped once before clamping his hands around his throat to staunch the lifeblood spurting from him – unsuccessfully – and falling over. He looked toward the dais and started. The Dark Lord was watching him. He smiled at his Lord, expressing his gratitude for the evening. He supposed he'd have to fuck the girl. The Dark Lord was a lustful being and he expected a show._

Severus skipped forward through the rest of the memory.

 _Lucius said nothing to Narcissa as he crossed the room to the shower. He was filthy. He_ felt _filthy. He washed the blood off his skin but no matter how he scrubbed, he still felt dirty. Narcissa didn't ask him about his evening and he didn't offer to tell her, but he knew she noticed how he was careful not to touch her that night._

Severus retreated from his mind and nodded. "Heal him," he instructed Hermione quietly, handing back her wand. She summoned a jar of bruise paste and got to work casting diagnostic charms on him while she waited for it to arrive. He hissed at the sting when she healed his busted lip. She didn't warn him before she snapped his broken ribs back into place. The bruise paste came hurtling toward her and she held out a hand for it. He only flinched a little when she touched him, smearing bruise paste around his eye.

When she was done, she handed the wand back to Severus, who turned to Narcissa. She nodded sharply and he dove into her mind.

He allowed her to steer him first. The Dark Lord was threatening Draco. He felt the anger in Narcissa – the feral, visceral response of a mother. It had gone on for days, the threats of violence. And then they hadn't just been threats and it was all she could do not to leap to her feet and curse the vilest man ever to walk the earth right then and there. He knew very well – better than almost anyone – that it was easy to show someone what they wanted to see. He rifled through her mind further after she finished showing him what she had wanted to. Hatred of the Dark Lord, love for her son. That was the most relevant information that he found. She was fond of Lucius – he had given her Draco, after all – but it was tainted by her anger with him for dragging her family through the court of the Dark Lord.

He retreated from her mind and passed the wand back to Hermione. "Heal her."

Hermione eyed Narcissa. "Are you injured?"

She swallowed and nodded stiffly.

Hermione cast her diagnostics over the woman and blanched. " _Really_?"

Lucius growled, while Draco cast his eyes onto the floor. They'd probably been made to watch. Hermione sighed and undid the binds on Narcissa's hands. She led her to the bed on the other side of the room and summoned curtains to surround them, placing a silencing charm on them.

"I'm not a trained healer," Hermione told her gently.

Narcissa looked down her nose at her. "This is not, as the muggles say, my first rodeo, Granger. I can direct you."

Hermione swallowed her nausea at the thought and nodded. Narcissa stripped down and Hermione went to work following her instructions. When she was finished, she summoned the bruise paste from the other side of the curtain and handed the jar to the older woman, who slathered the stuff onto the bruises marring her torso and her breasts.

"Do you need a contraceptive?"

She nodded stiffly. "Please."

"We'll brew one as soon as we're finished here."

The men were all silent when they emerged from behind the curtain. She wondered if any of them had spoken at all while she had been healing the woman. Narcissa remained standing, though she placed one hand on her husband's shoulder. With a flick of her wand, Hermione released Lucius's ropes as well. He rolled his shoulders a few times and stretched out his arms, being sure to keep his movements slow and steady. He kept a wary eye on Neville, who still had his wand pointed at the older wizard's face. She handed her wand back to Severus. It was Draco's turn.

Draco tried to fight him. The boy was a decent Occlumens. Unfortunately for him, Severus was a better Legillimens. But it wasn't gentle.

 _Draco was crying. The curtains were drawn around his bed. Severus could feel the emotions rolling off the boy. Fear, desperation, despair. This was when he'd been tasked with killing Dumbledore. Draco disliked the old man, but he didn't want to kill him. He didn't know if he could. A traitorous voice whispered to him that this was all his father's fault. Draco had had no choice in this. He hadn't signed up. He'd been lead._

The scene changed.

 _His father's hand, with a death grip on his shoulder, was the only thing that prevented him from launching himself at Scabior. The filthy slime was violating his_ mother _. The Dark Lord looked on, approving._

Severus felt the raw fury that flowed through the boy and he was satisfied. He had been in the minds of other Death Eaters. He had seen their thoughts as their sisters, their daughters, their sons had been punished in much the same manner. While most had not been pleased with the display, they had submitted easily. The Dark Lord was their master and they obeyed him. They bowed to his whims. Some of them even participated.

"Heal him," he said, handing Hermione her wand for a final time.

She nodded and stepped toward her former classmate. The diagnostics showed only the damage to his leg. She crouched, watching him warily in case he decided to try and kick her. Using her wand, she cut away his trouser leg at the knee, hissing at the sight below. His calf was pulverized. The meat was just that: meat. She could see the damage worsening in front of her eyes, the flesh shriveling and eating away at the muscle around it.

"Do you know the spell that did it?" she asked, not looking him quite in the eye. He shook his head and she looked to Severus next. He had, unfortunately, come across it before and he murmured the counter-curse behind her. Immediately the leg stopped deteriorating.

She summoned the bottle of Essence of Dittany that she knew was in the cabinet in her bathroom. As soon as the curse had been stopped, the wound had begun to ooze. Bright red blood dripped onto the floor, making a puddle around her knees. She began to chant under her breath, sealing the blood vessels without actually healing the wounds. The dittany hurtled into the room and she held out a hand for it. Draco yelped when she dripped it onto the raw red meat of his leg, but the muscle began to smooth out almost instantly, the gouges in the flesh filling in with fresh growth. Only then did she begin to focus on the lost skin.

"There will be scarring," she murmured, "but you'll live."

Severus released his hands with a wave of his hand. Hermione cleaned the blood off the floor. The jeans probably weren't ruined but they'd need a good cleaning and that wasn't something that would be happening right then and there.

Draco was staring at his blood on her hands.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

"Anyone hungry?" Hermione asked the room coolly.

Lucius raised one brow and looked silently to his wife, who said nothing. It was Draco who answered. "I refuse to touch anything not cooked by Severus. Don't trust you lot not to poison us," he sneered.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"How unlucky for you that I am an abysmal cook," Severus drawled. "I'd be happy to burn something for you, or you can accept that if Hermione had wanted to kill you, you'd be dead." He paused. "We can show you to the cell if you need proof?"

Lucius cleared his throat. "We've already seen the proof, thank you. Anything that Miss Granger feels up to is fine."

"You can't cook?" she asked, looking up at him.

One corner of his mouth quirked up. "I can't cook."

"You're a potions master," she said blankly.

"It isn't the same thing," he almost growled. Clearly, he had had this conversation before.

She snorted. "No wonder there was no food in your house." She looked toward their captives? Allies? – she wasn't really sure what to call them yet – still bunched around the bed. "I'll have breakfast up in a bit."

oOo

Downstairs, she sent Severus off to brew up Narcissa's contraception potion while she cooked. Toast and oatmeal, she decided, would be plenty. Almost certainly they were used to grander fare, but she didn't feel quite inclined to fry bacon and eggs this morning. Last night had been exhausting and she hadn't gotten enough sleep to really feel rested. The thought of taking a nap curled around Severus later warmed her as she stepped into the kitchen and was met with chilly stares.

Ron was being Ron, as usual. Harry honestly seemed more skeptical than angry. Ginny was the worst. The girl's eyes were cold as they tracked Hermione across the room.

"Look, I know. I don't like it either," she told them quietly as she set water on the stove to boil. "I _know_ what he did, Gin. Severus looked into their minds, if it helps."

"And?" Harry prompted.

She shrugged. "I don't know what he saw, but I've healed them and I'm here making them breakfast. I suppose he saw enough to convince him that they're at least not here to kill us or turn us in."

"But how do we know we can trust him?"

She shot a tired look at Ron. "I trust him. You can trust him or not, I don't really care at this point, but it'll be a lot easier if you do. He's not out to get us. He's had plenty of opportunities to kill me, to kill you, to kill all of us. He is on our side."

She lined up the bread on the counter, going down the line with her wand and toasting each slice. "Have any of you thought of the opportunity they present?" There was silence behind her and she sighed. " _He_ is living at Malfoy Manor. Who do you think knows that place better than anyone?" A pot of water went onto the stove, oatmeal pooled at the bottom.

"We could take the fight to him," Harry muttered.

Hermione nodded. "I think Severus was right about the horcruxes. Who's to say we can't kill his body and then finish off the rest of his soul without him around trying to stop us? The Malfoys have presented us with an opportunity to end this. Soon. Without a battlefield."

"And what when they betray us?" The resentment was clear in Ginny's voice.

" _If_ they betray us, we'll at least be inside the manor." She turned to Ron. "You're the master tactician here. It can work, and you know it can."

Ron glared sullenly at the table but nodded.

Hermione stared in turn at the reluctant faces. Slowly she could see, if not enthusiasm for her plan, at least acceptance of it. She turned back to the toast, applying a liberal pat of butter to each slice. Summoning several jars of jam, she arranged the spread on a tray. On the stove, the oatmeal still had another minute or two. Bowls, plates, and utensils went onto the tray. _Close enough_ , she thought to herself, and loaded the pot of oatmeal onto the tray as well. She levitated the tray and left the kitchen with it floating along behind her.

Neville was standing guard outside the room when she made it back up the stairs.

"Couldn't stand to listen to little Malfoy whining anymore," he joked as she stepped around him with breakfast.

She entered the room and was met with three pairs of eyes staring at her. She waved the tray forward. "I resisted the urge to add hemlock to the oatmeal," she told them sarcastically.

"Miss Granger," Lucius said, his voice seemingly sincere, "thank you."

She nodded curtly and turned to go.

His voice called out behind her, "Please tell Miss Weasley that I am truly sorry. I had no idea of what would happen when I slipped her that diary." She turned back to him and her surprise must have been visible on her face because he grimaced and continued. "Children – _children_ – nearly died for my recklessness." He considered the young woman in front of him while his wife and son scooped the sticky oatmeal into their bowls. "Do not misunderstand me, Granger. I did believe in the Dark Lord once. Even then, I did not condone murdering children."

Her face was impassive. "Severus tells me that you were his best friend."

A small smile twisted his face. "I was once, yes."

"Thank you for letting him go."

"We may not be as close as we were, but I still consider Severus to be a friend. The Dark Lord is…" He trailed off, seeming to search for words. From the corner of his eye, he caught Draco watching the exchange closely. "The Dark Lord is psychotic, Miss Granger. I believed in him once. I do not anymore. His lust for power and for violence is… unsavory. Severus can stop him. You lot can stop him. To let him die in a cell in my basement would have been a crime against us all."

Hermione said nothing for a long moment. "I believe that we will be working closely, Mr. Malfoy. It's Hermione."

He nodded once. "Be good to him, Hermione." His eyes slid to the doorway. Severus was exchanging words with the Longbottom boy in the hall. "His ears must have been burning."

Not a moment later, the man in question slipped through the wards, a vial of a light blue potion in his hand. Lucius took the opportunity to serve himself some breakfast. Severus handed the vial over to Narcissa, who popped the cork and downed it in one long swig. She wrinkled her nose at the taste and handed the empty vial back to Severus.

"Thank you," she murmured.

He nodded silently in acknowledgement before turning to Draco, who was picking at his toast. "I trust that you'll continue to live after your breakfast?" he sneered.

Lucius cut him off. "Hermione has prepared a perfectly adequate meal, thank you."

Severus raised an eyebrow at his friend's informal address and glanced to the woman in question.

She shrugged. "We had a chat."

"I'll leave you to it then," Severus said to their captive allies. "We have some convincing to do downstairs this morning." He gave Hermione a fond look before surprising her by placing a hand on her back. "If anyone is capable of throwing weight around, it's Hermione."

She quirked one eyebrow at him and leaned into him until she was nearly pressed into his side. "If that's your way of calling me fat, I'll stab you in the throat," she told him mildly.

Severus laughed. Draco choked on his toast.


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

They were all gathered in the kitchen. Every Weasley – Percy excluded – was gathered around one end of the table, Ginny firmly wedged between her parents. Minerva had managed to sneak away from the castle, leaving Filius in charge with the promise that she would fill him in on the details when she returned. Kingsley, Tonks, and Remus stood in the corner with their heads together. Tonks looked ready to pop, and Remus had one hand on his wife's back as he whispered heatedly. Harry and Neville sat at opposite ends of the table, looking at anyone but each other.

Hermione was the last to join the meeting with Severus and Lucius Malfoy in tow. Upon seeing the two Death Eaters, chairs scraped across the floor and there were cries of outrage. Even a curse or two was thrown, though Hermione easily blocked them from reaching her… _person_ and his friend.

"Wait, wait, STOP!" Minerva shouted through the noise. "Everyone sit down and listen to me. Severus is not a monster. He is on our side, I assure you. Dumbledore himself personally filled me in on the plan to have Severus kill him in order to gain favor. He is _on our side_."

Hermione nodded, crossing her arms over her chest where she stood. "He saved my life."

"Oi, don't you lot read the papers anymore?" Fred interjected. "He's replaced Harry as Undesirable Number One. If Voldy wants him dead that badly, I'll take him." His eyes glittered with mirth as he eyed Hermione. The article had been explicit on just _why_ Severus Snape was wanted dead. He'd been caught consorting with then Undesirable Number Two.

"And Malfoy?" spat Molly.

Minerva shrugged helplessly. "I'm sure there's a good reason."

"He saved _my_ life," Severus spoke up. "The Malfoy family came to us for shelter and to help us. We have a plan to end this." He nodded to his old friend, who stepped forward.

"The Dark Lord is in residence at Malfoy Manor," he began. Hermione was surprised that the man almost sounded nervous as he addressed what was left of the Order of the Phoenix. "It would be entirely possible that I could enter the wards and dismantle them, allowing the lot of you," his eyes swept across the room, "to enter undetected. A surprise attack, if you will."

Arthur Weasley furrowed his brow. "You don't think that they'll expect it?"

Lucius shook his head, long blond hair shivering around his shoulders. "The Dark Lord will have warded the place against us. He certainly thinks that we won't be able to return."

"Can you?"

"No ward could bar us from our ancestral home. The manor will recognize me. I can slide past, hidden as Master of the manor."

"How can we trust that you won't tell them we're coming?" Kingsley spoke up.

"I acknowledge the validity of your question," Lucius said diplomatically. "You have no reason to trust me aside from my word and the word of Severus Snape that I am trustworthy."

"You have my word, too," said Hermione firmly. She could feel Severus's eyes on her and took an unconscious step closer to him.

"Thank you, Hermione." The blonde did not fail to notice the collective twitch of the gathered at his informal address. "I have no wand. It was taken from me before I even stepped foot in this house. I have no enchanted objects on my person with which to communicate. I have only a desire to see the bastard die, just as you do."

"I don't like it," Remus muttered.

"You don't have to like it, it just has to work," Hermione snapped, her nerves on edge. If they dismissed the whole thing immediately just because it made them feel _icky_ to work with former Death Eaters, she would lose it.

Harry sighed. "I think it's our best bet. It will involve the fewest innocent people. It will limit the playing field. How many Death Eaters are likely to be in the house?"

"Only a handful. The Dark Lord does not like to be hung upon when he has not called for a meeting. Dolohov is likely to be around. Scabior." He spat the name like a poison. "Possibly a few others, but no more. I can order the house elves to assist the Order. They would never be expecting an attack from them."

"And the Lestranges?" asked Kingsley. "Bellatrix and her husband. I was under the impression that she never left his side if she could help it."

Lucius looked surprised. "I thought you knew. She's dead – as is her husband. Her head sat on a pike outside my estate." He looked to Hermione, who had snuck closer to Severus. "They don't know?"

"I killed Rodolphus Lestrange weeks ago in a brawl," Severus said lowly.

Hermione cleared her throat. "Bellatrix was my doing."

Silence reigned in the kitchen until Tonks threw her head back, laughing. "I always knew you were a badass, Granger. Obviously, I'm out of the game but I think it's as good a plan as any."

"Severus needs a wand. We need Ollivander, Bill." Ollivander and Luna had opted to stay at the cottage with Bill and Fleur for a while after their escape from Malfoy Manor months ago. Last she had heard, they were still there.

Bill nodded. "I'll talk to him."

Hermione caught Remus watching her carefully, a frown creasing his face. She raised an eyebrow and pointedly took another step toward her lover, this one pressing her into his side. Severus looked down at her, glanced around at the watching room, and slid an arm around her waist possessively.

"Are we all in agreement, then?" Kingsley looked around at the gathered faces in various phases of surprise and disapproval. Frankly, he didn't give a flying fuck if Snape and Granger were shacking up. Right now, he cared that You-Know-Who would be defeated – soon. Heads were nodded around the table, even if some were more reluctant than others. "Alright then, let's talk strategy."

oOo

"Hermione," Remus called, catching her arm as members of the Order milled about in the old kitchen. She caught sight of the concern etched on his face and sighed. "Can I have a moment?"

"Of course, Remus." She would let him at least say what he thought that he needed to say. In her role as an unofficial healer for the Order of the Phoenix, she had healed others besides Severus Snape. Remus had come to her a time or two after a particularly rough transformation, being that she was closer and more accessible than Madam Pomfrey. He was a friend, of sorts. A mentor, certainly. She led him into the library and silenced the door behind them. A quick jab of her wand at the grate got a nice fire crackling, and they settled into armchairs across a small table from one another. She crossed her arms and smiled. "What's on your mind?"

Remus seemed to squirm a bit under her steady gaze. "I am concerned," he admitted, though the man seemed to have some difficulty getting the words out.

"Because of Severus." She was not going to beat around the bush about it.

Reluctantly, he nodded. "I'm not saying that he's pure evil, Hermione, but the man is dark. _Dark_. Planned or not, he killed Albus Dumbledore with the killing curse. You have to mean that."

Hermione regarded him silently for a moment. "You aren't wrong," she conceded. "He is dark. He did kill Dumbledore. And yes, he had to mean it. But do you know why he meant it?" She paused, watching his lips crease into a frown. "I don't. It isn't my place to ask, nor is it yours to assume. I do know that Dumbledore was dying. I know that he was cursed and that it was eating him alive. I _do_ know that Severus is dark. But I also know that he's a good man and he's going to help us win this war."

"He's changed you," Remus insisted, shaking his head. "Bellatrix-"

"Bellatrix deserved what she got," Hermione spat, sitting forward in her armchair. "That bitch _was_ pure evil." She sat back again, tilting her head to the left. "I'll admit that I lost my temper with her, but no, I do not regret it. She got what she had coming to her. Neville was only too happy to get his due, as well."

He passed a hand over his face. "You put her _head_ on a _pike_."

"Why does everyone get hung up on that bit?" she wondered. "The Dark Lord was torturing him, Remus. I heard him _screaming_ and I was helpless. It was the only thing that I could do."

He sighed. "I'm still not a fan."

"Literally no one is asking you to be."

"I haven't even _mentioned_ the age difference."

"Please don't."

Remus made a face. "He's _my_ age, Hermione."

She grunted. "I thought you weren't going to mention it."

He shrugged. "Someone has to."

"No, they really don't. I am aware of it. He is aware of it. Beyond that it's no one's damned business." She crossed her arms again and stared into the fire. It was something they hadn't even discussed yet. She supposed they should. He had been her teacher, after all. But she was not going to have that conversation with Remus Lupin. It wasn't his damned business. Anyway, "Tonks is only a handful of years older than I am, Remus."

He ran a hand through his hair. "I know. It took me a long time to come to terms with that, myself. I'm just concerned, that's all."

"I do appreciate the concern, but it isn't warranted. I assure you that if his arse needs kicking, I'll do it myself."

Remus cracked a genuine smile at that. "I'm sure you will."

"Are we done with this? Because I'd like to congratulate you on your upcoming child if you're finished feeling icky about my relationship."

The man across from her huffed. "It's a bit more than that, Hermione." He held up his hands when she leaned forward, face a mask of annoyance. "But yes, I'm done."

Her nostrils flared and she nodded. "When is she due?"

Remus's hands rubbed together nervously in his lap. "Any day now. I tried to tell her she should stay home tonight, but you know her. Always has to be in the center of things."

She leaned forward and reached across the table to place a hand on his arm. "You're going to be a wonderful father." There was uncertainty in the murky eyes looking back at her. "Trust me, you'll be great."

She could tell he didn't believe her but he nodded anyway.


End file.
